


The Crooked Wand

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Kiddie Lit Revisited [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Adult Fairy Tale, Adult Fairy Tales, Alien Plants, Amanda Grayson OOC, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chkariyas, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Heavy Angst, Humor, Inept, M/M, Magic, Male Fairy Godmother, Mental Anguish, Oogie Details, Out of Character, Sarek OOC, Spock OOC, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Upset McCoy, Upset Sarek, Upset Spock, Vulcan Animals, Wishes, alien animals, alternative universe, fairy godmother - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Leonard McCoy is just not cut out to be a male fairy godmother.  Even his boss, the overindulgent Jim Kirk, is getting exasperated with him.  Then McCoy is given an ultimatum: he must either grant three wishes to someone who is in dire need of hope and reassurance--and succeed at it--or he is out!Federation Command has selected an impossible candidate for McCoy.  A sheltered Vulcan princeling, possessor of everything but a life, is to be McCoy's last chance to prove himself.  McCoy must teach the Vulcan how to live, which will be difficult since McCoy doesn't believe in life, or magic, himself.But then he goes and really messes everything up by falling in love with the guy.





	1. You Gotta Focus, Bones

**Author's Note:**

> In a comment, Esperata revealed plans for a Cinderella fic in which Jim Kirk would be a fairy godmother. That fic became "Have Courage And Be Kind." That comment also gave me the plot bunny for this fic. Why not have Leonard McCoy be a male fairy godmother? But one who is inept and not very dedicated to his craft?
> 
> So, once again, I am indebted to Esperata for inspiration. Besides, we all need a little nonsense and magic in our lives.

Leonard Horatio McCoy was not a very good male fairy godmother. In fact, he was downright inept. That did not prevent him from being beloved by the male fairy godmother captain in charge of him, though. Jim Kirk had a soft spot in his heart for McCoy. He knew that he shouldn't. He knew that he shouldn't play favorites. But he and McCoy had been through a lot together down through the years. And even though McCoy might not be too productive, he was loyal. Besides, Kirk just plain loved McCoy. And he would do just about anything for his unlucky friend. And he had. Countless times. He'd even changed occupations several times, just so he could be with McCoy.

But even indulgent male fairy godmother captains have limitations to their patience and protection, and McCoy was becoming a very thorny problem for this particular male fairy godmother captain.

“I mean it, Bones,” Kirk said as he held out a hand to his friend pacing in front of him. “You gotta stop making mistakes. Think, man, think! Even first years plebes at fairy school wouldn’t pull some of the dumb-ass capers that you do. And you’re a graduate!”

McCoy didn’t know what to do. If it’d been anybody but Jim Kirk lecturing him like this, McCoy wouldn’t have hesitated. He would’ve been outa there so fast that his exit would’ve been nothing but an indistinct blur. He’d come to Kirk’s quarters near the fairy school thinking that he’d been invited for a drink. Instead, he’d gotten this, this betrayal.

Not that he really blamed Jim, though. Kirk had shown the patience of a saint with him. He didn’t know if he could’ve been as good of a friend to Jim as Jim had been to him. But now even Jim was sounding as if he had reached his limit.

Time, McCoy needed time.

McCoy turned away from Jim Kirk and took a few steps in a tight circle, as if he was going to turn a small pirouette in his pretty dress. Generally whenever he did that, the soft fabric of the skirt would billow from the loose gathers at his waist, and he loved knowing what a graceful tableau he was presenting. But now he was deep in thought and not even aware of the graceful picture. He had other things on his mind.

McCoy knew that every word that Kirk spoke was the truth, but he hated to hear it all said out loud. Hell, Kirk wasn’t telling McCoy anything he didn’t know. McCoy didn’t exactly have his head stuck in the sand here. After all, he hadn't blown into town on any old piece of thistledown. He just had these certain problems with being a male fairy godmother. Problems like dedication.

A person doesn’t like to admit that he's in a decline during the best years of his life. After all, Leonard McCoy had a lot going for him. Or at least he used to.

He liked to think that he was still pretty good looking. His short chiffon tunic showed off his shapely legs to good advantage, and the short sleeves of the bodice displayed his manly arms. The sleeves were edged with the same Grecian key design that circled the hem of his dress. McCoy’s comely figure would look winsome even in a gunnysack, and that was the effect that McCoy nearly achieved now without really aiming for it. Even though he was well-built, he wasn't exactly the best kept male fairy godmother out there. His toilette could stand some improving. He lacked dedication in that area, too.

Although he and Kirk wore similar dresses, McCoy had a certain well-chewed, even tacky, look about himself. But admirers of McCoy’s physique didn’t notice at first that the original cream color of McCoy’s tunic was now dulled with underlying tones of slate gray. Each stain spoke of missions gone awry in the romance department. Stuff just seemed to happen to McCoy, stuff that would seem ridiculous if it wasn’t just so pathetic.

Observers also did not see that the golden tinsel twisted into a halo floating above McCoy’s head was a little misshapen. The fact that the halo was held up by an extension of the golden tinsel that trailed down his neck and disappeared under the neck of the tunic was secondary to the vibes that McCoy produced. People really didn’t notice that his halo bobbed around instead of floated. They were interested in the man himself.

McCoy’s attitude made his audience blind to the flaws in his costume. He was a bad boy, and he just didn’t give a damn. There’s always going to be people around who love that type of behavior. And Jim Kirk did. For McCoy was living the life of the socially excluded. McCoy truly was a rebel without a cause. He was pissy, simply because he wanted to be pissy. Even Kirk couldn’t seem to keep him in line or the chip off McCoy’s shoulder. But Kirk came closer than anybody.

McCoy’s small wings rustled slightly, and McCoy reached backwards to straighten the disarranged feathers. He glanced back at Kirk. Now there was a god in the form of man, if there ever was one. Kirk’s chiffon tunic was so creamy in color that it looked like the garment could be used to change the dark complexion of coffee when the tunic was dipped into it. Sandals adorned Kirk’s feet, and the leather strips laced up his luscious calves. And the golden halo that floated over his head indeed floated, and it was as round as a maiden’s eyes and the curve of her full mouth the first time that she is taken.

In the meanwhile, Kirk was continuing his rant. "You’re supposed to be leading the next generation, not pulling all of us through the mud with you!”

McCoy looked up, a little miffed. “You’re exaggerating a little there, don’t you think, Jim?” he protested.

“No, I’m not! Why, just this last weekend, you changed the wife of the visiting dignitary into a viper with five tongues! You’ve set diplomatic ties with their planet back ten years! And it might even cause an intergalactic war! And all because of what you did to the dignitary’s wife!”

“I’ll admit that was a mistake. I was aiming for her husband. He was telling so many lies that I wanted to make certain that everyone at the conference saw what he was doing. I don’t know how he could keep the lies all straight. He was talking in so many tongues that it had to be a problem for him.”

“Not for him,” Kirk muttered. “He’s a politician. That’s what politicians do. They talk in many tongues, while saying nothing worthwhile. Telling the truth would probably kill him.” Kirk stirred himself. “But you still shouldn’t have punished his wife for his sins.”

“You’re right there! She had her own sins to atone for! I wanted to turn HER into a screech owl. Man, that woman has a mouth on her! Foghorns are envious. Bull elephants thought that she was in heat and was broadcasting the fact. Crystal glasses shattered all over the galaxy. Banshees want her for their queen.” McCoy nodded in thought. “But screech owls are a better fit for her. She’s in urgent need of a lube job. Her voice sounds like metal grating on metal.”

“Bones! That wasn’t nice.”

McCoy grimaced and looked contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s better.”

“A screech owl is a noble creature. I shouldn’t have insulted that magnificent bird in that fashion.”

“Bones…,” Kirk huffed in frustration.

McCoy gave him his best flirty smile. “You know that you love having me around,” he said softly.

Kirk sighed in resignation. “Yeah.”

“Let me make it up to you. Let’s go party. Then it’s hard telling how the evening will end for us,” he said suggestively.

Kirk’s smile was tired. He knew when he was beaten. “I can’t say ‘no’ to you, and you know it.”

Yeah, McCoy did.

 

And so it went between them after almost all of McCoy’s ill-fated missions.

But no matter how much Kirk groused at him, McCoy refused to apply all of his effort into doing a good job with the fairy godmother business. The next time that McCoy had to step up and assume responsibility, he failed again.

“You need to focus, Bones.”

“I am. I’m just not inspired.”

“You aren’t a Beatnik poet nor are you an Impressionist painter. You don’t need inspiration to do your job; you just do it. You hear wishes, you grant wishes. You give a person what he or she desires to be happy. How difficult is that to do?”

“People ask for stupid stuff,” McCoy grumbled. “And it's all for me, me, me! Give me this, give me that,” he mocked in a jeering voice. “Makes me sick how greedy they are. They deserve a board to the ass with a couple of long nails protruding from it instead of a pot of gold or a beautiful princess to wait on them hand and foot.”

“That isn’t your decision to make. You just have to provide it.”

“Why don’t they just get off their duffs, get to work, and earn what they want? It’ll mean more to them when they work for what they earn.”

“I know that and you know that, but they don’t know that. They want the easy way to happiness in their lives, and that’s where we come in. You and I bring magic and wonder to them. We’re like a year full of holidays and birthdays all rolled up into one glittering package.”

“Sounds like they just need a good dose of salts. That would get rid of more than one problem for them. It’d get all of their drains running clear again.”

“You don’t have your soul in your work, Bones.”

McCoy’s only answer was a kind of half-hearted grumble. McCoy wasn’t inclined to answer as much as Kirk was prone to listen. But Kirk had heard it all before. Despite everything, though,weren’t he and Leonard McCoy still best friends?

But as much as McCoy didn’t particularly care to succeed as a fairy godmother, he had no ambition to be anything else. Besides, he liked hanging around Jim Kirk. He was a downright curse for his captain who was always giving him “just one more chance. Please? Pretty please? With fairy dust and magic pollen sprinkled all over it, just the way you like it?” McCoy would wheedle and slip back into the clown character that shielded his heart. “Because you are such a sweet and understanding captain? And because you love me so very, very much?”

And, of course, Jim Kirk would melt. Because if there was one true fact in this world, it was that Jim Kirk loved the irascible, irreverent McCoy. And like others who could not do without the rebels in their lives, Kirk fought to keep McCoy with him. Because, without McCoy, the sun would not shine as brightly anymore for Kirk and birds would not sing so joyously. But it would be nice, if just once, McCoy could just finish the job assigned to him without messing it up.

And Jim Kirk would eventually cave, just as McCoy knew he would.

“Okay! Once more!” Kirk relented, because he wanted to keep up the charade, too. “But this is absolutely, positively the last time, Bones!”

“Oh, you are such a good captain!” McCoy would gush.

Jim Kirk knew he shouldn’t, but each time he heard that plea and saw those solemn eyes, he was lost. And it was true what McCoy said. Kirk did love him with a special tenderness in his heart that belonged to McCoy and to McCoy alone.

And always would.


	2. A Not So Sterling Record

McCoy had been Kirk’s first friend at Star Fleet Academy. And that was important to the hayseed kid from Iowa with his eyes full of wonder and adventure. Leonard McCoy had seemed so poised and cosmopolitan to him. The older, city-bred guy had taken Kirk under his wing and befriended Kirk when McCoy wouldn’t have had to have done it. Kirk was in awe of that inclusion. McCoy had won a friend for life, even if sometimes he couldn’t quite figure out how he had done it.

True, Dame Fortune had not smiled on them equally from then on, and their careers had taken separate paths. Kirk’s journey was pointed straight down the road to success as if Kirk was following an established route, while McCoy’s sojourn had hiccupped along with medicine one year and divinity studies another. Then their paths had curved back toward each other again when they both centered on magical crafts. Kirk had headed surely in that direction while McCoy had drifted toward it like seaweed afloat on a flooding sea. Any little eddy was apt to cause him to bob on the waves and nearly flounder or send him in a completely different direction. McCoy was attracted to that calling of the magical arts because that’s where he had washed ashore and because Jim Kirk was already there. McCoy had shrugged mentally and had decided that it was good a spot as any. Might as well stay awhile.

McCoy probably would've gone into hog-calling if Kirk had told him that there was a future in it.

Kirk did his best for McCoy, but was quickly running out of options and people he could charm in McCoy's favor. Kirk was afraid that not even he would be able to save his errant friend this time. “No, this really is, absolutely, definitely, the last time,” Kirk tried to impress on McCoy. “That business with the many-tongued harpy has been the final straw. The dignitary’s wife is having terrible problems. The five tongues are fighting with each other, and nothing but gibberish is coming out of her mouth.” He had to grin. “The dignitary said that it’s the most rest that he’s had in ages. He's discovering that he isn't tone deaf, after all.” Kirk sobered. “Be that as it may, though, you cannot make any more mistakes. This is it.”

McCoy batted his pretty eyes at Kirk and gave him that cute little grin of his. That grin could melt any heart or resolve, so how could Kirk be expected to fight it? Besides, Kirk was putty in McCoy’s hands, and they both knew it.

“No, it really is, this time,” Kirk insisted, trying to make himself sound firm and resolute. And that was difficult for him to do with McCoy. Because he loved the guy. He really and truly loved the guy and didn't want to lose him. Bottom line, nothing would be half as much fun or worthwhile if McCoy wasn't with him. It'd just be perfect, if McCoy would just shape up and succeed at something. Anything. Please. Anything. “You’ve made excuses for so long that you’re starting to believe your own stories.”

McCoy frowned. ”That’s cruel.”

”I’m trying to wake you up to reality. You’ve got to get yourself together and change your way of operating. Your chances are running out. You’re hanging on by a silken thread the way it is.”

That made McCoy grumpy. “Damn it, Jim. I’m a male fairy godmother, not a damn spider!”

“You aren’t even a male fairy godmother,” Kirk muttered sheepishly.

McCoy frowned. “That’s a rather cold appraisal of your best friend.”

“I can’t help it. It’s straight from Command.”

McCoy looked back at Kirk and was struck again by the beauty of his longtime acquaintance. And Kirk’s gold and cream outfit wasn’t hurting his presentation any. Kirk was the image of a Greek god come to Earth. Wow, he was pretty! And he thought the world of McCoy.

Then why didn't Kirk ring his chimes for him?

Still, he was quite toothsome....

”What the hell is that look supposed to mean?!” Kirk demanded. That leer on McCoy’s face was difficult to ignore.

McCoy didn’t even try to edit what he was thinking. He blurted it out like an unruly four-year-old seeing his favorite flavor of ice cream being offered to him.

“You look like a tasty tidbit for a hungry Zeus,” he informed his handsome captain.

Kirk jerked with surprise, and for a moment he felt exposed and vulnerable. “Where in the hell did that come from, Bones?!”

“Here I thought you’d ask if Zeus had ever been into guys,” McCoy muttered.

“He was too busy with his wife to look at guys. That Hera was a jealous bitch.”

“Oh, she had a good reason. I think that Zeus liked his sex two hundred percent. Anything with genitals was fair game to him. He didn’t care if they pointed out or were indented. And all back doors are constructed the same, so they were no problem whatsoever. You ought to hear some of the tales about Zeus that I’ve heard!” McCoy gave Kirk a wicked grin. “Naughty boy! Naughty, naughty boy! That Zeus knew how to live! It’s a wonder that he wasn’t worn down to a nubbin!”

Kirk was intrigued, especially about how Zeus had gotten himself so worn down. But Kirk straightened his shoulders with determination. “Bones! I will not be distracted!”

“Damn, you’re being a ball-breaker today.”

“I gotta be a captain sometimes, and sometimes that’s pretty difficult to do. Especially with you.”

McCoy turned with a flirty look. “Am I getting your pressure cooker all steamed up with immoral lusts? Are you finding it difficult to concentrate on business, despite what you’ve been telling me? Wanna drop the official stuff and have some fun? For old time’s sake?”

Kirk looked genuinely pathetic. “You misunderstood me. I meant friendship. That’s all. And that’s difficult enough with you, without anything else getting involved.”

McCoy turned off his sexy look and decided to study the opposite wall instead. “Yeah, I know that I’m not playing fair. I know that it’s difficult to be both a boss and a friend at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, Bones. You know I’ll help you where I can, but it’s out of my hands. Command is the one putting on the pressure this time. Mess this assignment up, and you’re outa the fairy godmother business for good."

McCoy opened his mouth with a proposed exception.

"Bottom line,” Kirk said firmly.

McCoy straightened up, slightly miffed. “Boy. Talk about having no heart.”

“It’s Command.” Kirk’s eyes pleaded for McCoy to realize the truth. “What do you expect? I tone down the reports as much as I can, but I can’t deny consequences. A dignitary’s wife with five tongues is kinda hard to hide. It’s a case of a picture being worth a thousand words, and Command is saving nine hundred and ninety-nine of those words by threatening with only one word: Out.”

McCoy cringed. “Looks like you could be a little more loyal to a buddy.”

“I do my best. Besides, they don’t have to deal with you in person. They don’t know how difficult that is to do. All they do is bark the orders. But I’m the one who has to carry them out.”

McCoy heard something else, too. “I still get to you, huh?” he asked with a sly grin and felt a remnant of former powers.

“There will always be a tingle there,” Kirk admitted. “You were my first guy.”

McCoy’s grin deepened. “The hallmark, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far--”

Kirk waffled, but McCoy knew that he’d always have an edge with Kirk. And it was centered right between the top of McCoy’s legs.

McCoy batted his eyes in his most charming way. “You’d intervene for me again, wouldn’t you?”

“I already have! Countless times! If you mess up this time, you’re on your own! You might have to go back to medicine! After all, you are a doctor!”

Kirk’s adamant statement sobered McCoy and made him think. “Yeah, but a doctor of what? Who would even want to be a patient of mine?"

Kirk gave him a sincere, loving look. "You know that you can always be my doctor."

"Yeah, but I'd starve with just one patient."

"There's all kinds of openings for you."

"Where? Look, I know you mean well, but I'm never gonna be an elite doctor. I'm never gonna be CMO on a Starship or anyplace great like that. And I don’t want to wind up in a wizard dispensary, patching up novice witches and warlocks. I’m even worse at wizard medicine than I am at being a male fairy godmother.”

“We must lose a lot of novice witches and warlocks then,” Kirk muttered without thinking.

“Yeah, my sterling record is still blundering away in that area.”

“Sorry, Bones, I shouldn’t have said that. I know that you’re sensitive about it. But you know that I’m right. Your heart’s still back with medicine.”

“I have a love-hate relationship with the healing arts. They lure me in, just to pull the rug out from under me.”

“You’re a healer, Bones, and you always will be,” Kirk said softly. “You just need to find your way back to it, in your own way.”

McCoy rolled his eyes.

“Okay, maybe not with medicine. But you are a healer. You need to find a way to do your craft that will be beneficial to you.”

“And how about the patient?!” McCoy snapped. “The patient has a part in this beautiful scenario that you’re weaving, doesn’t he?! And, a vested interest?! I can’t forget the patient, even if you can!” He grimaced. “First, do no harm! That’s the oath I took! And I failed it, miserably!”

“Bones, all of those mishaps and deaths weren’t your fault,” Kirk soothed.

“Then what doctor’s fault was it?! I was the man in charge! It was my responsibility! The buck stopped in my hands! I was at fault!”

“Bones, there were all kinds of circumstances that you couldn’t control. Explosions half a starship away from where you were stationed weren’t your fault. None of us could get to those trapped crewmen in time. Then there was a plague on a planetoid that you barely escaped with your own life. Your dying wouldn’t have helped them, no matter what you’ve always thought. And those mislabeled vials of medicine that killed your patients instead of saving them certainly weren’t your fault.”

“But I felt like I was responsible.” McCoy shook his head. “Tragedies all, and you could go on with examples. No, Jim, I’m just a Typhoid Mary of medicine.”

“Bones, you aren’t happy here. Being a male fairy godmother isn’t for you, either.”

McCoy stubbornly drew himself up. “I still have another chance, though, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Kirk agreed, although it bothered him to do so.

“Who is this loser who is needing help?” McCoy grumbled. He’d woken up with a headache and knew that it wasn’t caused by a lack of caffeine. It was booze that he was needing, hardcore rotgut. No, he realized. He couldn’t go the redneck route. Scratch the rotgut. He need Kentucky bourbon. But on the salary he made, he had to be satisfied with whatever hooch came his way. He knew that he had champagne tastes, but was on a beer budget. Or in his case, bourbon tastes but on a rotgut budget.

“This file will explain it all,” Kirk muttered as he handed papers to McCoy. Kirk wasn’t too optimistic about McCoy’s mission. He figured that McCoy was setting himself up for another fall. But this wouldn’t be just another fall for McCoy, Kirk realized. For when McCoy failed this time, he and Kirk would be separated forever.

McCoy left with the file clutched in his hand. He was determined to succeed this time. 

He would grant wishes to someone who was in dire need of believing in magic, or know the reason why not. 

Leonard McCoy would fulfill this shit mission. He would make this person a believer in magic.

McCoy would succeed, even if he didn't believe in the magic himself.


	3. The Once And Future King

Prince Spock set aside his lyrette on the bench beside him and sighed. How wonderful to have the means to express himself through such a delightful musical instrument! How blessed he was that his parents had encouraged his love of the arts so that he had studied music and painting as a child. It had been a salvation for him during his lonely childhood and was a balm for his intelligence as an adult.

He felt so secure and protected here. This had always been his world, so how else could he feel? Yet he yearned for more. If he allowed himself to dream, he would think of other worlds. Of the study of science. Of the love of a good person. Of attending Star Fleet Academy on Earth. Of doing these things and still having the respect of his father. But those things were dreams and not meant for him. Why should he be selfish, when he had so much?

Vulcan was lovely this time of the year, or so Spock thought as he looked around the garden behind his father’s residence. Red boulders with scant sign of vegetation met his gaze. The sky reflected the redness and lent a uniformity and tranquility that was most pleasing to the senses. It’s simplicity soothed him as nothing else could. There was nothing to mar or interrupt the vista of ruggedness before him.

What other people would deem to be stark and unrelenting, Spock found to be clean and crisp. It was a masculine landscape, but one in which a man would know and appreciate his worth. It freed a man’s thinking, instead of boxing it in like the cozy, lush gardens on other planets probably did. It invited a man to expand his mind instead of settling for other people’s narrow platitudes.

This landscape allowed a dreamer to dream. And Spock was a dreamer, so this harsh scenery appealed to him much more than the structured furnishings of his father's mansion behind him. The only things that really spoke to him in the house were the paintings and sculptures and books. For those objects revealed other people's dreams, and Spock learned to know their creators through their art. He probably learned to know them more personally than if they had been acquainted. For people can hide themselves when seeing them face-to-face, but their art will always disclose a creator's heart and soul.

So that was why Spock loved this scenery. It spoke to him in a language that he understood, and he found that he appreciated the creator that had fashioned such untamed beauty. For this was what Spock hoped that he himself was: unfettered, but with a soul that recognized the rightness of what lay before him.

Perhaps not everyone in the universe would agree with Spock’s aesthetic tastes, but Spock had always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Nowhere, apparently, was that fact truer than in these tranquil gardens. And Spock pronounced this planet to be a place filled with wondrous sights, indeed.

Sometimes, as now, he did mull over what Vulcan would look like if it was like other planets, say Earth with its rustling leafy trees, gurgling brooks, and singing birds. Noisy, for one thing, Spock decided with a frown and a slightly raised eyebrow. Earthlings must really have to concentrate in the midst of all that distracting racket vying for their attention.

So deep in thought was Spock himself that he did not hear the approach of a distraction of his own until his visitor spoke.

“Spock? Are you out here again?”

Spock looked up, almost puzzled, his reverie broken by the appearance of Sarek.

“I am just contemplating our beautiful planet, Father.”

Sarek sighed. “There are other ways to occupy your time, Spock, besides the enjoyment of nature. Nothing in life is free, son. You must scratch and claw for existence to keep others at bay, THEN you can enjoy the fruits of your struggles.”

Spock swallowed a sigh of his own. “No life is wasted if it is spent in studying. The contemplative life is a time-honored one and is a sign that a civilization has progressed forward enough so that its male population does not need to spend its time in constant warfare.”

“Son, you are a guy. You are the son of a renowned diplomat AND a mighty warrior. My feats are sung in the halls of influential people all over Vulcan. You are also the son of a ruler, and someday you will inherit Vulcan to rule. I would rather that you could do that ruling based on life experience and dealing with other beings in the universe, not by what you have read in a book. Spock! You cannot get the kind of experience you need to survive in life by communing with nature back in this garden by yourself!”

“I do not wish to be disrespectful, Father, but I learn many things back here. There is a universe for me to study within these garden walls. The sun comes up in the morning, so I know that life will go on no matter what may happen with individuals. Our wild animals scamper around, obvious to us as they live out their lives without any help from me. This teaches me that there is a master plan to life, but it does not come from me. I do not own the universe. Therefore, I learn humility. I am not all-powerful in the universe. Indeed, I am not even all-powerful in this small garden. Of course, I could kill the small animals scampering around my feet, but all that would do would be to raise my blood lusts. It certainly would not influence the life cycles of the other animals that escaped my momentary wrath. And, frankly, I would rather that the little animals felt free enough to scamper around my ankles. Their comical antics amuse me.”

“You know, don’t you, that those same seemly tame creatures would gladly snap off your feet at your ankles if they felt cornered and threatened? And if they were hungry, they might stick around long enough to gnaw on the bloody stumps of your legs while you were watching them with bemusement on your face at their comical antics.”

“Oh, Father, how droll you are. The chkariyas living in this garden know me. They would not harm me.”

“Of course, they know you,” Sarek muttered. “You’re always out here among them! They probably consider you to be an overgrown member of their family. They probably wonder why you sleep in the house, instead of down in the ground in their burrow with them!” He studied the look of amusement on his son’s face. “And I am not being droll! I am being deadly serious here!”

Spock struggled to clear his face. Apparently, Sarek was interpreting his son’s attitude today as insolence when Spock was trying, for once, to be companionable and light-hearted. Moreover, it would appear that Sarek was not himself in a matching companionable and light-hearted mood.

Spock sighed to himself. It seemed as if he and his father could never be together without bringing out bad reactions in each other. As what generally happened, Sarek would get angry and Spock would get defensive. And the subject that caused such angst between them always seemed to be Spock’s current occupation and the plans for his future.

“They are only chkariyas,” Spock muttered, trying to appease his father. Yet Spock wanted also to be an advocate for the small burrowing animal life-form that resided in the family garden. “They have a right to live, too.”

“I am not disparaging any group of animals their right for existence. As you know, we Vulcans try to avoid causing harm to other living creatures. I am simply disparaging the right of the chkariyas to be doing their existing in my garden!”

“They do clear up the carrion from the surrounding area,” Spock supplied, hoping to put in a good word for his small furry friends.

“They generally eat plant roots, too. Your mother has suspected that they are responsible for damaging her garden. She is still threatening to set traps for them.”

“They simply encounter the plant roots in their burrows. They are trying to keep their tunnels clear,” Spock quickly pointed out. “And they do tidy up the garden by eating rotted fruit that has fallen to the ground.”

“And the occasional small animal. That is what makes them meat eaters, Spock. I still believe that your bare feet would be a tasty banquet for them. And so available for their taking since you are wearing sandals.”

“Are you lowering yourself to using sarcasm now, Father?”

“Whatever I am doing, YOU are being disrespectful!”

Sarek had him there, and Spock knew it.

“I do humbly apologize, Father.”

“That’s better,” Sarek said while doing a shoulder roll in triumph. 

But the display was just an act, and they both knew it. For Spock had made his father lose his temper, and that is always a sure sign that someone has lost the battle. For all of his renown for being a cunning diplomat, Sarek could not handle his son. And now, as usual, Sarek had reverted to treating his son as a child. And that was not a good thing for him to do. For while Sarek could demand to be treated with the respect that is due a parent, he also needed to treat Spock with the respect due to a grown person. What Sarek was doing was a form of verbal abuse as surely as if he struck his son with a whip and abused him physically. How could he expect his son to take his place as a man if his own father treated him like a child and did not respect him?

“Sometimes, I think that I should have allowed you to attend Star Fleet Academy,” Sarek admitted with exasperation. "At least you would be doing something constructive toward the responsibilities in your future."

Spock looked at his father with sudden interest on his face.

“But you know that I always wished for you to attend the Vulcan Science Academy,” Sarek added quickly.

Spock looked away. This was an old argument between them.

Sarek could not stop himself from the points of his argument. “It is the premiere school on Vulcan and is a worthy and honorable institution for the youth of Vulcan to attend. And do not say that you do not wish to study there because it is now being attended by men who bullied you as a youth. That is a lame excuse. You need to focus on the end result of your schooling, not the day-by-day intolerance that you would find in your classmates. Remember that these young men are some of the citizens that you will someday lead. You are interested in science. V.S.A. has an excellent science program. Star Fleet Academy is not the only school in the universe offering a curriculum in science.”

Spock looked back at his father. “I want a fresh start. I need to prove myself to myself. You once did this sort of thing yourself. Can you not therefore understand my need to do this thing?”

Something like recognition flashed through Sarek’s eyes, then he did another shoulder roll. “You are being rebellious, that is all. And I will not have it.” And he stomped away, not realizing that he was successfully snuffing out any ambition that his son may have developed.

Spock looked lost for several moments. Then his face gradually eased into indulgent humor as he watched the amusing antics of the chkariyas who once again were brave enough to come above ground to play around his feet. They trusted him as he did them. And at the moment, they were his only friends.


	4. The Strange Garden Gnome

After he was certain that his father was indeed gone, Spock lost his complacent look and used all of his energy to gain control of his emotions again. No one could stir him as his father did. No one. And Spock realized that the reason for that was because he loved his father so much and wanted only to please him but knew he couldn’t. If Spock could just find someone to love as much or even more, then maybe his father’s hold would cease to be so constricting or so important to Spock.

But where would Spock find someone like that? It would have to be a larger-than-life personage to appeal to Spock. It would have to be an imposing being to outshine the mighty Sarek in Spock’s eyes. It would have to be a superhuman being. For only someone like that would impress Spock.

A moment later, Spock’s attention was drawn to a rustling in the bushes near him. Then he was treated to an amazing sight as a creature the likes of which he had never seen before stumbled into sight. Literally. Spock was more startled than frightened by the stranger who looked like a man but was wearing a woman ice skater’s dirty and rumpled dress.

The creature stared back at Spock as he took a final step around a bush. The stranger was so enthralled by what he was seeing seated on the garden bench that he did not watch where he was going. The Vulcan native with little animals scurrying around his feet looked like a pastoral god to the new arrival. If it wasn't for the harsh red world all around him, the stranger might almost believe that he had been transported back to Ancient Greece.

He must make a good impression, the stranger thought. This might well be his client. Then he stepped forward and proceeded to trip over a protruding root.

“Damn!” McCoy muttered as he caught himself ungracefully.

"Who are you?" Spock demanded as he straightened to confront the intruder.

McCoy growled as he fought to extract his dress from the branches of the bush.

Spock realized that his visitor was under more of a threat than he was. “May I help you?” Spock inquired. The bush was putting up quite a battle and was more than a match for the newcomer.

McCoy finally won his battle with the clawing bush and stepped away from it. “Are you Spock?”

“Are you lost?”

"No, I'm Leonard Horatio McCoy." He frowned. "I think." It had been so long since he had been addressed as anything except 'Bones' or 'my male fairy what?!' or 'Eek! How in the hell did a damn fairy get in my room?!' that McCoy had nearly forgotten that he had a real name.

"You do not know who you are?"

“Look, we’re not getting anywhere with all of these questions.”

"I am not trying to get anywhere while you, apparently, are. And I also am not the one who is lost and who is battling a stationary bush. I know where and WHOM I am, and I am quite content with my knowledge."

"That's all pretty good and proper, but things can be a lot better for you," McCoy said with a friendly grin. "Let me tell you how." He took a step forward, but stopped when the little animals around Spock’s feet snarled at him. “But, first, call off your dogs.”

“What dogs?” Spock asked, puzzled, looking around.

“Those damn critters with you,” McCoy answered as he pointed at the unsociable animals that were milling around Spock’s feet. “What the hell are they, anyway? Weasels with a thyroid condition? Do they turn white in winter? If they do, that would make them ermine. You could make a lot of money on their pelts. By the looks of it, there’s a lot of those little bastards running around here. You could corner the market on ermine fur. And they’re so damn tame that you wouldn’t even have to trap them. They’d come walking right up to you. Then you could reach out and kill them easily. They'd probably even kiss your hand while you were slaughtering them, too.”

“I would not consider killing these creatures," Spock declared indignantly. "They have the same right to life as I do. I do not care how much my mother protests or how many plant roots that they eat.”

“Eh?”

“Did my father send you? Are you here to exterminate these noble creatures?”

“What noble creatures?” McCoy asked, looking around. “These snarling bastards with their lethal looking claws? Mister, you’ve got a lot to learn about what makes a creature noble. Sinister, maybe. A force to be reckoned with, even. But noble? You gotta define your words a little bit better than that.”

“There is no absolute rule about what constitutes nobility,” Spock contended stoutly.

“Perhaps,” McCoy relented. “But I bet that you’re the type that would find something noble in even a laughing hyena.”

“A laughing hyena? Is that not an animal native to Earth? As is the weasel which you compared to the chkariyas at my feet? Are you an Earthling?” Spock asked with sudden interest in his voice.

“I used to be,” McCoy mumbled in reply.

"You are certain about your background, either, are you? You seem to have a lot of problems with your personal identity."

McCoy shrugged. "We all have our crosses to bear."

“I do not recall Earthlings having wings growing from their shoulder blades. Is that how you transported yourself here? Those wings do not look strong enough to bear your weight and frame,” Spock decided and thereby answered his own question.

“No, I arrived the old-fashioned way, by beaming down from a space craft, unnatural as that is. These wings are mainly for show.” He reached back to fluff some feathers. They needed constant grooming. Such a bother!

“Are you molting? Your wings look a little bedraggled.” Spock assessed the rest of McCoy’s appearance. “As does your dress. It looks dull and dingy. Was it always that light gray color or has it just aged badly?”

“Hey! I’m not criticizing you, am I?!”

“There is nothing about me to find fault. My outfit is impeccable.”

McCoy couldn’t argue with his host’s assessment of himself. In fact, the Vulcan looked damn good to him. Slim, tall, dark. Looked like he worked out. Not an ounce of fat on him, except maybe in interesting places. He bet that there was even an interesting package hidden under those clothes. Yes, sir, McCoy could go for that in a heartbeat.

Spock saw the look of admiration and felt flattered. Perhaps he needed to tell his guest of his whole evaluation of the stranger’s appearance. Despite the drab condition of McCoy's clothing, Spock had observed some aspects of McCoy that he liked very much.

“While your costume is somewhat diminished, it is displayed to its best advantage by your comely figure. The muscles in your arms and legs ripple magnificently whenever you move. I can only assume that the underlying muscles and other parts of your charming physique beneath your clothing must move accordingly. You must be magnificently coordinated and seemly in every movement, be it public or private. And pity the person who receives only the public view.”

What the hell?! McCoy thought. Was this guy for real?! That was the hottest line that he’d heard in years. This guy must really shoot from the hip, or be the dumbest guy sexually in the universe. McCoy reconsidered this Vulcan’s situation and quickly came to his own conclusion.

Dumbest guy sexually in the universe.

That was both good news, and bad. Good news because the field was wide open for McCoy. And bad, because the person seated before him was probably his client and therefore intended for other purposes.

Still, there was the outside chance….

“Spock?”

“Yes?”

McCoy deflated. Damn! This was his client.

McCoy tried to bring an impersonal yet enthusiastic spark back into his voice. Time to get professional and forget his libido. Besides, it showed little restraint to want to hump somebody because that person got him to thinking about bedroom activities again.

"I have good news for you," McCoy chirped.

“You have remembered who you are?” Spock asked hopefully.

“No. Yes. Yes, I know who I am!” He HAD to get this conversation on the right track. “And it’s now your lucky day!” There! His professional spark was back. How come, though, he felt like a used car salesman who knew that his cars were all pathetic wrecks?

“How so?” Spock asked, with his original skepticism back in his voice. "Why is this my lucky day?"

“Because I am here to make your dreams come true! Boy, are you gonna like what I have for you!” McCoy announced as he stepped eagerly toward Spock.

"Oh?" Spock asked as he frowned and drew back warily.

McCoy stopped. “Not that.” Hell, even he had more finesse than that, even if his closer view of the Vulcan was getting long forgotten juices running again. If he wasn’t careful, those juices would flow through his body and stiffen something that hadn’t been stiffened in awhile. That sight would probably scare off this handsome Vulcan and leave McCoy to the mercy of the still pissed-off chkariyas who continued to eye McCoy suspiciously.

“I am your fairy godmother!” McCoy announced.

“You do not look like a woman,” Spock noted.

“Okay. I am your male fairy godmother!” McCoy amended.

“I did not know that there was such a thing as a male fairy godmother. And I have done a lot of reading in all sorts of literatures. Isn't that a contradiction of terms?”

“I am a little known breed,” McCoy mumbled.

“You must be,” Spock agreed. “What does a male fairy godmother do?”

“Grant wishes!” McCoy announced with all of the enthusiasm that he could muster.

“Grant wishes?” Spock asked with skepticism. “Why do you believe that I need to have wishes granted?”

“It wasn’t my decision, buddy. Federation Command picked you.”

“Who? What? Federation Command? The league of the planets? Why would Federation Command be interested in granting wishes to me? I did not realize that sort of thing was part of their responsibility. I thought that they were primarily interested in keeping peace in the universe. My well-being pales in consideration of that mighty humanitarian endeavor.”

“That’s a little known, ah, branch of the work that they do. Consider it a part of their goodwill effort.” McCoy hoped that his whooper of a lie could be mitigated by his crossed fingers behind his back.

“Fascinating,” Spock accepted, sounding very impressed with McCoy’s double talk. 

“Maybe they know that you’re needing any help that you can get. Your old man was chewing your ass off pretty well when I got here. Does that happen very often?”

Spock was appalled. His head jerked and his eyes widened in disbelief. “My father was doing nothing of the sort!” Spock declared. "My posterior is quite intact, I can assure you!"

That was the most response that McCoy had gotten out of Spock since he had arrived here. Now McCoy was fascinated. The Vulcan could become quite animated when stirred. McCoy liked the green flush that tinted Spock’s cheeks. It gave the Vulcan some fire and made him more interesting and more appealing than ever to McCoy.

He wondered what other fires could be stirred in the Vulcan?

“My father did not even threaten to bite me," Spock was continuing to explain. "How could he be doing… what you said?”

“It was an idiom. You understand idioms, don’t you?”

“An idiom?”

“Sure. An idiom. It’s a 'true is’UM' that makes an 'IDIot' out of whatever someone says.”

“Oh,” Spock said thoughtfully. “I understand now. Thank you for explaining.”

THAT bit of McCoy gibberish the Vulcan had understood?! How could Spock begin to comprehend McCoy, when even McCoy himself did not understand completely what he had just said?!

“Spock, we’ve got a lot to talk over. Do you think you could call off your watchdogs and make some room for me on that bench? I’d like to get better acquainted.” For more than one reason, McCoy thought as Spock complied with his requests. He felt more than ever that he was a used-car salesman about to sell a lemon to a trusting soul.

All that McCoy knew for certain as he watched the chkariyas disappear was that he was going to get to sit beside this handsome Vulcan hunk without the unnerving presence of those critters that had seemed to have McCoy's testicles spotted.


	5. Getting Acquainted

Spock arranged his long white toga daintily and demurely around his shapely calves as McCoy seated himself on the bench beside him. Spock shot several speculative glances at McCoy through his eyelashes, but kept averting his eyes shyly. McCoy thought at first that Spock might have gotten some dust motes caught in his eyes that had blown past suddenly. Maybe Spock even suffered from a nervous tic that caused his eyes to dart about on occasion. Who knew what strange afflictions bothered Vulcans. This climate and scenery couldn't be the most conducive for good health.

Funny that McCoy hadn’t noticed any eye condition of Spock's before seating himself, though. Maybe the angle of the sun was bothering Spock. But it looked like that sort of thing would’ve improved since Spock didn’t have to look up anymore. Seating side by side put them at equal heights, so sunlight shouldn’t be bothering.

Since it didn’t seem that Spock was going to get a conversation rolling, McCoy jumped in with a convenient icebreaker. He crossed his fingers against telling a lie, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “So, Princess, these are lovely gardens that you have here.”

To McCoy, the red rocks and surrounding bare hills looked like the Valley of Fire east of Las Vegas, except not as lush. At least the site in Nevada had sagebrush growing in it.

Nowhere did it say that a male fairy godmother had to be truthful. Especially if he was trying to score points with someone he was trying to impress with his good taste.

Spock looked around lovingly. “Oh, thank you. They are the pride of the royal family. They are a national treasure.”

“Really?” Beauty must really be in the eye of the beholder on Vulcan, McCoy decided. But he could not insult the Princess, ah, Spock that way. “You must really enjoy your gardens then.”

Spock was still looking out and seeing something that McCoy couldn’t see. “Oh, yes, I do, I do. It is so isolated here on the estate, especially here behind the mansion. I feel that I can sit out here in the gardens and do whatever I wish without anyone learning about what I have been spending my time. It has been my salvation.”

“How wonderful that you have a sheltered retreat like this to yourself,” McCoy said in a gentle, confidential manner that was certain to win Spock’s trust. Then he dared to lean a little closer. "So, do you come here often?"

“How did you ever know about that?!” Spock gasped as he pulled back. He blushed prettily as he glanced down, then at McCoy through his dark lashes again. “You must understand that I generally do that sort of activity in the privacy of my rooms. If I do something like that out here, I make certain that Father does not catch me at it. That is when my little friends, the Chkariyas, come in handy. If I am busy making myself see stars in the daytime with my talented hands, they tell me when he approaches. I can get so wrapped up in my pleasurable exercises, but the Chkariyas keep watch. Then I rearrange my skirts so that I am properly covered when Father appears. He has no idea where my mind, and hands, have been.”

McCoy blushed to the roots of his hair. Other, hidden, parts of him responded, too, but it certainly wasn’t by blushing. He felt a definite tug in his nether regions.

“That wasn’t exactly, ah, what I was getting at,” McCoy stammered. What a helluva way to get started! “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so personal. I have problems with that sort of thing myself sometimes. I believe that I got off on the wrong foot today!”

“So you enjoy that sort of activity, also! That is marvelous!” Spock said with surprised happiness and awe. “I did not even see you move! And still you got off! But, tell me,” he asked, truly puzzled as he leaned closer. “How could you do it on the wrong foot? Is one foot truly better for that type of activity?”

“Eh?” McCoy got the distinct impression that they were talking about two different things.

“You said that you got off on the wrong foot,” Spock supplied innocently.

Really?! This Spock could pick and choose the idioms that he could understand?! And how come they all had to deal with auto-eroticism? 

“I misspoke. No feet were involved.”

“Oh,” Spock replied, clearly disappointed. “I thought that I would learn a new technique. Something that I could even do in Father's presence without his knowledge.”

“Sorry. But tell me about yourself, Prin-- Spock. Have you always lived here on Vulcan?”

“Oh, yes,” Spock answered with a sigh. “Father thought that it was best that I be educated in the schools on my home planet. It was a horrendous experience for me, though.”

“Oh?”

“I am of mixed parentage, you see, and I was taunted about it by other boys my age. My mother is an Earthling,” he said with downcast head.

“No reason to be ashamed of your mother’s heritage. My mother was an Earthling, also.”

“But so was your father. You are pure-blooded.”

“You just have to think of it differently. Lucky you! You inherited the best traits of two cultures.”

“Oh, I wish that I could think of my mixed parentage in those terms!”

“But you can! People can only make you feel bad about yourself if you let them.”

Spock gave McCoy a beautiful smile full of gratitude. “Oh, you are so wise! You really are my male fairy godmother, aren’t you?”

“Well, that’s debatable.”

“Sorry?”

“I have to succeed with your wishes. Otherwise, I’m nothing.”

“Oh, dear, how sad for you.”

“Yep, I wind up being nothing. No male fairy godmother. No doctor. No Star Fleet graduate.”

“Have you attended Star Fleet Academy?!” Spock asked excitedly with glowing eyes.

“Yes. Jim and I were both going there. We were plebes together.”

“Jim?”

“My friend. My boss.”

“How did he get to be your boss if you were plebes together?”

“Things don’t always work out for me, see? Jim sails through whatever course of study we try, but me.... Well, with me, it’s a different story.” He shrugged. “But Jim won’t go off and leave me. He could be so much further in his career if he didn’t hold back on my account. Why, he could even be the captain of a starship by now, I expect, if it wasn’t for me.”

“Perhaps other things are more important to your friend Jim than his career.”

McCoy grimaced. “Yeah. Me. Jim is lucky in everything except in his choice of friends.”

“Well, now, I expect that he does not see matters the same way as you do,” Spock said with a gentle smile.

“That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“I am not saying it to be saying it. I sense many wonderful things in you.”

McCoy returned the gentle smile as his eyes flicked over the rugged face before him. Strange how it had become familiar and dear to him in just a few moments. “I sense many wonderful things in you, too.”

“Oh,” Spock said shyly and blushed green.

“It’s true. And I’m not saying that to be saying it, either. You seem to have a love for creatures and for your environment. You particularly love these gardens.”

“Oh, yes.” Spock looked around at the area surrounding him. “I love nature so much!” He looked back at McCoy. “I wanted to study science, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. But I can understand why you would have that interest. The study of science would never be exhausted, from medicine to the natural world. I know that I enjoyed the study of science and medicine.”

“You studied science at Star Fleet?”

“Among other things, including what I am now. My heart belongs to any of the sciences. No wonder you feel the pull of nature.”

“If only my father would be as understanding as you,” Spock said with a sigh. Then he frowned. “Well, I suppose that I should tell the whole truth on that matter. Father would be more than willing for me to study science, if I did that studying at the Vulcan Science Academy. But my heart’s desire is to attend Star Fleet Academy. That is why I was so impressed that you had once been a Star Fleet student. You must be quite knowledgeable to have studied both medicine and the magical arts. That is commendable in one so young. And in one so handsome.”

McCoy blushed at the blatant praise. He did not know what handsome had to do with being good at studies, but he’d take it with the rest of Spock’s awestruck compliment. McCoy was extremely flattered. But then he found that he had to tell the truth, also.

He shrugged. “What helps is not finishing any of the courses. That's how I've had so many majors. I've been flitting from one thing to another, like a drunken butterfly.”

“Oh, I can hardly believe that. I think that you became bored with a subject, and your restless mind scurried on to something else to occupy it.”

Yeah, that was it.

He was finding that he still wanted to be truthful with Spock. “I appreciate your seeing things that way.”

“Why, it is the only way,” Spock breathed. “Tell me, what would you really like to be studying, if you had a choice?”

“Medicine,” McCoy said with no hesitation. “I always can picture myself as a doctor.” Then he wanted to finish that picture because Spock was looking at him so intently with bated breath and a smile of encouragement on his face. “I can picture myself as the Chief Medical Officer on a starship where my friend Jim is the captain.”

“Oh, such a magnificent dream!” Spock said with enthusiasm. "May I be Science Officer on your starship?"

"Sure. Why the hell not?"

"Oh, I like your dreams!" Spock said with a delighted shiver.

McCoy grimaced. “But it ain’t gonna happen,” he said morosely.

“Oh, but you need to believe,” Spock said as he placed his hand on McCoy’s forearm.

McCoy looked deeply into Spock’s dark eyes. He wanted to believe. Oh, if he could only believe!

He pulled his eyes away. “But that’s not what we need to be talking about now. I am here to help you.”

Spock wanted to reassure McCoy more, but he sensed that now was not the time. He needed to help McCoy to fulfill his mission, also.

“You said that you were here as my male fairy godmother and that you had three wishes to grant me. Is that not all true?”

“This is all true, your highness.”

“You do not need to call me ‘your highness.’"

“Oh, but I do. You are a royal prince."

"My father is the leader of Vulcan, and it is logical that I follow him in that leadership capacity.”

"But that still makes you royalty. While I am nothing but a male fairy godmother who isn’t too good at what he does.”

“Oh, but you have walked the hallways of Star Fleet Academy! You have flown in a starship! You have been in space!" He looked to McCoy for confirmation. "Have you not?” 

“Well, yeah, but that does not mean--”

“But it means everything,” Spock said without guile. “You are experienced. Just as I believe that you are experienced in the ways of love,” Spock said shyly.

“Well, not meaning to brag, but I have had my moments.”

“So worldly,” Spock proclaimed as his eyes filled with tears. “And I am so nothing! Nothing!”

“Now, now,” McCoy started ineffectively.

“Nothing! And I never will be anything!”

McCoy wanted to point out that someday Spock would rule the planet of Vulcan, so his future was more or less assured. But McCoy thought that Spock might not be interested in that piece of information right now. No matter how logical it was.


	6. Sealed With A Kiss

"So you see what sort of predicament that I am in!” Spock wailed as he flung his hands over his eyes. "Stuck here on Vulcan, while I long for adventure in space!"

"Space really isn't what it's cracked up to be," McCoy mumbled. "It can be scary as hell. And cold. And you don't make the same mistake twice about it, because you won't survive the first slip-up."

"I would like to learn those facts for myself, not have to assume my duties before tasting life!"

Apparently trying to remind Spock of the benefits that he would receive simply from the accident of his birth was not the right thing to say. Suddenly their civilized conversation plunged dramatically downhill, and McCoy had his hands full of someone in full melt down.

McCoy thought that Vulcans tried to control their emotions better than this. Apparently not this Vulcan, not at this time. But McCoy was much too busy now to ponder this new puzzle. He had to appease Spock and bring him back to some sort of stability.

“I might as well be a Medieval princess shut up in an ivory tower as much freedom as I h-have!” Spock hiccupped as he sobbed. “My father has made a virtual prisoner out of me! And all I want is a little say in decisions about my own life! Is that so much to ask?!"

"No," McCoy muttered, but doubted that Spock heard him with all the noise that he was making.

"I cannot be a figurehead simply because I will be the ruler of Vulcan some day!”

Okay, McCoy recognized the trigger that he’d unwittingly used.

“There, there,” McCoy soothed as he gently patted the top of Spock’s nearest hand that rested on the top of Spock’s nearest knee. McCoy did not know which he liked better: the nearness of the tempting hand or the nearness of the more tempting knee. Both were attached to the loveliest being that he had ever seen. 

For Spock was not only handsome and perfectly proportioned, he was also beautiful and comely. How could that be possible? How could one person possess the best attributes of both sexes? And McCoy had the sneaking hunch that Spock had no idea that he was so endowed with such physical charms. Innocence AND beauty! Could life get any better than this?!

McCoy always thought that his tastes ran to Southern belles and wood nymphs. That way he could savor the best of his two worlds: human and mythological. But he had to admit to also liking the male of the species, so he would have to add Jim Kirk and satyrs to his short, but succulent list. 

But now, now that he had met Spock, now he had a third category: fire goddess. For that was how Spock seemed to McCoy: sedate on the outside but a smoldering mass of sexual energy underneath that was just needing to be released.

And, no, McCoy did not hate himself for thinking sexual thoughts even as he strove to comfort Spock. He was a man, and almost any man surely felt that way about anybody that was not related closely to him through blood ties.

No, McCoy wasn’t so besotted that he did not realize that his tastes ran toward helpless acting lovers. It was a turn-on for him, because he knew that he could be a slave to that kind of behavior. His sexual partner was the one actually in charge because McCoy had been given the illusion of being the strong one in their relationship. McCoy wanted to feel, hell, he needed to feel, in charge of something, somewhere, in his pathetic life. He had had that kind of illusion with Jim Kirk and with Jocelyn until they had both outgrown him. Jim still clung to McCoy somewhat, even though Jim was the natural leader of the two. In the bedroom with McCoy, Kirk had not needed to be the strong one. And for that respite from responsibility, Kirk had always been thankful for his beloved Bones. Kirk could be the dependent one, for a change.

Jim Kirk had never really had anyone to call his own when he was growing up. Even his mother was too busy with her second family and her chemical romance with her second husband. But Winona had clung to Kirk’s stepfather. Otherwise, she would have felt like such a failure to have lost two men from her life. What was wrong with Winona? Couldn’t she keep track of anything in her care?

Of course, George Kirk’s death had not been her fault. Or had it? Would he have put himself in jeopardy if he hadn’t been trying to protect her and their newborn child? Would he have gone down with his ship if he had not been wishing to leave a legacy of service and sacrifice to his infant son?

McCoy knew also that Kirk was a victim of his own chemical romance with McCoy. Why else would he have diverted his own career as a Star Fleet captain to indulge McCoy’s whim of being a male fairy godmother? That was friendship for you. 

McCoy knew that Kirk would do anything for him. Hell, hadn’t Kirk even grown wings for McCoy? That was being a buddy. And a helluva example of The Think Method.

Wings weren’t standard equipment for men. Men did not even have pinfeathers. Kirk had never given up, though, and soon he had grown wings. People scoffed. Hell, people will always scoff at the dreamers. But soon Kirk had wings, better than the wings of most fairies. That’s what happens when a person doesn’t give up.

Speaking of giving up, Spock was showing no signs of doing so. He finally had a sympathetic audience in McCoy, and Spock was going to make the most of it. Of course, McCoy might have had his own reasons for listening to Spock and winning his trust, but that made no difference to Spock. As long as McCoy didn’t interrupt him or try to divert him, Spock was only too happy to expound on his viewpoint.

McCoy had been listening to Spock blather on for hours, he thought, but it had only seemed like a few moments because McCoy could be inching progressively closer and closer to this toothsome delight. They were even now sitting with thighs pressed together. McCoy figured that a Vulcan would feel warmer, but this was ridiculous. It must be the close proximity that was generating so much heat between them. Maybe the heat was only McCoy’s imagination, but he wasn’t going to complain about perspiring any. If this was the price of sitting close to this Vulcan lusciousness, then McCoy would be willing to face the heat.

”I am sorry to complain so much to you!” Spock wailed.

”Think nothing of it. We all must have someone to listen to us,” McCoy soothed.

”You are a blessing indeed. Oh, I get so flustered with all of this!”

“You must not put yourself through such distress,” McCoy advised softly as his eyes flitted over that lovely face before him.

“You are so kind and understanding,” Spock breathed.

”That is what I’m here for.”

”I thought you said that you were here to grant me wishes.”

McCoy straightened. Back to business. “That, too.”

”How many wishes, if I may be so bold?” Spock asked with shiny eyes and eagerness on his face.

”Well, three, to be precise.”

”Three! Oh, my!” Spock hugged his fists to his chest, then threw them out to the elements with an expression of jubilant glee. Then Spock crossed his arms and hugged himself.

Luckily, McCoy had jerked back, or he would have been struck by the closer of those two flying fists. He leaned back toward Spock when Spock hugged himself. McCoy hoped that action didn’t stir other reactions in Spock so that the Vulcan began to satisfy his exuberance with some sort of auto-erotic performance in front of McCoy. McCoy was enthralled with the guy, but not so much that he wanted to watch the Vulcan pleasure himself. Surely Spock had some control of his libido.

But maybe not. He’d probably hadn’t had much opportunity to practice control of himself or anything much if his worldscope consisted of this mansion and gardens. Why, Spock might be a blank slate awaiting someone to handle him and teach him about social communication and interpersonal negotiations.

And life.

And love!

The possibilities were endless!

McCoy’s eyes shone, his breath quickened, his heart seemed to beat faster. And for a moment he swore that he could stimulate some sort of auto-erotic response in himself from all of this excitement. With this sudden glow, he probably wouldn't even need to use either or both of his feet. That would probably disappoint Spock who had previously expressed an interest in that sort of demonstration.

Then McCoy decided that some of the nudging from his nether regions was probably coming from the fact that he was seated so closely to Spock. And that location was really great except at those times when an exuberant Spock decided to throw his fists out without warning.

But McCoy must return to Spock’s excitement over hearing about the three wishes that he was going to be granted. All sorts of possibilities must be going through the mind of the sheltered prince. What first? His own space ship with a crackerjack crew to take him on adventures throughout the universe? (Hmm, that one might not be bad. That might be a good wish to grant to Jim Kirk for being such a good buddy.)

Meanwhile, McCoy must pay more attention to Spock. Somehow, though, McCoy felt that Spock had been so busy thinking of what he could wish for that he had momentarily forgotten about McCoy. McCoy felt a little cold about that fact, but it really shouldn’t surprise him. People were primarily interested in themselves and what they could get for free. Why should Spock be an exception? In fact, he should be worse than normal because he had been so sheltered.

Meanwhile, Spock’s eyes were glowing. Yup, typical, McCoy decided to himself. Spock was the same as everyone else.

Amazing how the prospect of a little bit of free loot can perk up the dreariest day, McCoy supposed sarcastically. No, you mustn’t think that way, McCoy reprimanded himself. This has probably been the answer to prayers for the Vulcan. If the Vulcan prayed.

Oh, well, might as well get the old ball a’rolling, McCoy thought with a sigh.

“If I may be of any service, princess.”

Spock frowned, as if he’d forgotten that McCoy was there or even who he himself was. “Who? Princess? Who are you calling ‘princess?’”

McCoy decided to cover it with blatant gall. “But you are a princess. To me. Hadn’t you realized that by now?”

What?! What?! What?! This had nothing to do with his being a male fairy godmother or wanting to grant Spock three wishes that might change his life forever. No, this was about something else entirely different, nothing that should even be in this conversation. But McCoy couldn’t seem to stop himself.

”Really? A princess?” Spock so wanted to believe all that McCoy was telling him.

”Yes,” McCoy said softly. “Yes, you are.”

Spock melted. “Aw!” Then he leaned toward McCoy in expectation. Trust and happiness were shining in Spock’s dark eyes. And what McCoy could only interpret as willing surrender.

McCoy did what he thought the princess wanted him to do.

He leaned forward himself and kissed the princess right on those luscious lips which were hovering so close to him right now.

And damn if that delightful princess didn't kiss him right back!


	7. And This Is My Beloved

It was a brief kiss as kisses went, but it had been wonderful. The lips of the princess had been soft and yielding, with just the slightest hint of answering pressure back. It was a long time since McCoy had shared such an innocent, trusting kiss. It reminded him of college days when the world was full of hope and there was an excitement in the air of whatever the future might bring. Where had that expectant feeling gone? When had he looked to the future with anything but jaded eyes? When had he stopped believing in possibilities and in magic?

But he would not allow himself to think of any of that negativity now. Now was the time to enjoy the return of hope and excitement and young love with all of its innocence and allure. He didn’t know if the kiss had done anything for the Princess, but it given him a glimpse of Paradise. And for that, he was thankful.

McCoy pulled back and with sparkling eyes breathed, “Princess.” He gave her a soft smile. “That was wonderful. Just wonderful. I had forgotten all about the magic of a First Kiss. It was like a breath of Spring.”

Spock returned the gentle smile and looked down shyly, but did not pull away. If anything, he leaned slightly closer to McCoy. For Spock was unafraid. He was like a gentle creature who has never learned to fear or to be leery of the outside world. He had never been hurt by love before, at least not this kind of love. He had no problem in snuggling closer to McCoy.

McCoy interpreted that as a sign for him to come closer yet.

Dare he try for another kiss?! Yes, he would dare! For the Princess was willing. McCoy could sense and see it.

Who would stop him now?!

McCoy aimed for the lips of the princess again, but paused when he saw that Spock would not deny him.

He just had to savor this moment.

Such trust! McCoy hadn’t been so happy or so lucky with love for a long time. Could it be that something like this could happen so quickly, so easily, when McCoy had always experienced so much heartache?

“You are so lovely,” McCoy said huskily and meant it.

Spock simply smiled and leaned in for the next kiss that McCoy was only too ready and eager to give.

And it would be so wonderful. Just lean a little closer with lips slightly parted and--

“Aha!” Sarek yelled as he plowed into their lovely garden scene. 

Spock and McCoy sprang apart. Beneath them, the chkariyas hissed their disdain of the interruption. McCoy had been so wrapped up in his admiration of Spock that he had forgotten that the little bastards had been milling around his feet. They must've realized that McCoy liked Spock, too, and had accepted him.

McCoy recognized the great hulking beast with the snarling countenance and the wild, dark eyes as the guy who had previously been 'chewing Spock's ass off.' Apparently, the lord of the manor was back, and Spock's father wasn't too pleased with the shenanigans he had just discovered in his domain.

“So this is what you are really doing when you are ‘communing with nature!'" Sarek bellowed. "I should have known that there was more involved than nature!”

Spock lifted his hand from his knee and gripped McCoy's hand hard. They both saw stars, and it was just not the ones that would be visible beyond Vulcan’s atmosphere.

Sarek seemed to be the only one capable of speech. “Now I know what the nature of your communing is, Spock. And you two have not invented anything new, even though you may believe that you have.”

McCoy became aware that the chkariyas milling around his and Spock’s feet were hissing at Sarek. McCoy felt a surge of warmth flow through him. The chkariyas were defending him, as well as Spock.

Sarek’s eyes were blazing. “Who is this intruder?!” he roared. “How dare he trespass into our garden while you are here unprotected! What falsehoods has be been telling you?!”

Spock drew himself up to confront his father. “They have not been lies, Father.” He stiffened with determination. “You need not be alarmed. All is well.” He glanced at McCoy with avowed determination. “And this is my beloved.”

Both Sarek and McCoy stared at Spock and nearly dropped their mouths open. McCoy’s first thought was, Say what?! His second thought was wondering why Spock was quoting some song from a Twentieth Century musical.

Spock’s face was becoming more placid as his father’s went through some interesting changes in green and white and dark green. The doctor in McCoy began to worry about Sarek, but he couldn’t help but admire Spock’s spunk. Talk about rebellion! A little late to count as teenage rebellion, but there were other things latent in the universe besides homosexuality.

“Your… beloved?!” Sarek echoed with a definite roar.

“That is true, Father. And I wish to marry with him.”

McCoy breath caught. At least, he still breathed, he realized. He hadn’t been certain for a moment there after Sarek appeared. Then he remembered how to work his lungs in and out again. Marvelous organs, lungs. Generally taken for granted, until instances such as this.

“Do you know what marriage entails, Spock?” Sarek asked, trying a different approach. “It is not just pageantry and expensive parties and dressing in pretty clothes. Certain… physical actions will be expected of you.”

“I know, Father. My reading has taught me what married people do together. So now I wish to lie with my beloved so that I too may have those same experiences.”

There were those interesting colors on Sarek’s face again. But McCoy was more interested in Spock at the moment.

In fact, McCoy’s only thought was, Hot damn!

“Oh, Spock, the marriage bed entails more than the romantic tales that you have read about in your pretty story books. I can tell that this person has been using devilish methods to sway your thinking.”

But Spock was adamantly stubborn. “He is a good person. And he will prove it to you.” Spock turned to McCoy. “Is that not so?”

McCoy realized that father and son were both looking at him, Sarek skeptical and Spock hopeful.

“W-what?”

“You can prove that you are a good person,” Spock encouraged.

“Well, I don’t know if I can say that--”

“I told you, Spock, that you are mistaken.”

“This business about being a good person,” McCoy said. “A lot of times, goodness is relative. What is goodness, you may ask? Well, that actually covers a lot of ground. Let me give you a few examples--”

“What are you blathering about?!” Sarek demanded as he turned on McCoy who blinked, then pulled himself back.

“Father! Do not be so intimidating! You are startling Horatio!”

“Horatio?!” Sarek shouted.

“Horatio?” McCoy echoed.

Horatio?! That was all that Spock had remembered of his name?!

Spock finally had his father’s attention. “Yes, Father, you are being intimidating again," he dared to say. "And you are also being disrespectful to a guest.”

That shamed Sarek who was big on protocol and graciousness with guests. Maybe not with his own son, but certainly with guests.

“Pardon me, ah... Horatio,” Sarek said, tripping over the name. “Forgive my poor manners, but all of this news that Spock has just related to me has come as a bit of a surprise.”

“It’s understandable. All of this is probably rather new to all of us.”

“He seems to be quite adamant about a marriage between the two of you.” Sarek had difficulty saying that sentence, also.

“Once again, the newness,” McCoy mumbled. “It’s rather overwhelming to me, too.” And that was saying a mouthful in a few words.

”You will forgive me… Horatio…” Sarek said carefully, “But I feel that I must ask. The, ah, wings. Just what exactly is your parentage?”

”Father!” Spock protested.

But Sarek plowed on. “Will your, ah, offspring… be born with wings? I'm just asking because the royal Vulcan family has never been capable of flying before. It will put a whole new dimension to future generations, and we would probably need to consider adding an aviary to the mansion.”

”Father!"

Sarek shrugged. "Just being practical. Winged children would be quite a problem for parents without wings. Children are hard enough to corral the way it is. I am just thinking of you." He gave McCoy a stripping glance. "And of your potential mate."

"Father! Really! I must protest! Next, you will inquire if Horatio is in possession of a thrusting penis and a suitably receptive rectum!”

Sarek and McCoy both dropped their mouths open in shock. Then Sarek got an inquisitive look on his face as he glanced at McCoy with raised eyebrows.

Spock huffed in exasperation, but McCoy chose to answer. He didn't want in-law problems this early in the game, and he felt that there was the potential for quite a few.

”I possess standard operational fixtures with, ah, normal bodily functions and the ability for the other, ah, activities when, ah, required,” McCoy mumbled as he felt his face redden.

"So, I understand by what you are saying, that you are not a virgin? To either aspect?"

McCoy blushed beet-red. "No. No virgin here, with either, ah, aspect. I have been married to a woman and have a daughter on Earth. As for men, I have been on both sides of that kind of, ah, relationship."

Sarek looked non-committal, and so did Spock. It had apparently been more of an issue for the human than for the Vulcans, but Sarek wanted McCoy to know that he was aware of the human's experience.

"And the wings?"

"Mostly decorative. Tools of the trade, such as a doctor has his stethoscope or a truckdriver has his package of hemorrhoidal suppositories. The wings would disappear if I got into another line of work, though. Say, royal consort. Wings are not hereditary. No, ah, offspring would be born with them.”

Sarek nodded. He knew that he had to buy time by humoring his son. Maybe he could figure a way out of this insanity if he only had time to think. “So, we should make marriage plans?” he asked McCoy.

“You and me?! To each other?!” McCoy asked Sarek, startled.

Sarek rolled his eyes. “Not me. I am taken! Spock’s mother would dissect me if I even looked at someone else, be it female or male. No, I meant you and Spock.”

McCoy shrugged. “Sure? Why not?” He still wasn’t quite believing any of this.

“Isn’t he something, Father?” Spock said with stars in his eyes for McCoy. 

Sarek rolled his eyes again.

Spock could see nothing but McCoy. “So calm, so assured. Nothing gets to him.”

Nothing except this insanity, McCoy thought.

“I thought that maybe you would have come to your senses and had changed your mind in the last few minutes,” his father insisted.

“No, no, I have not, Father. At least, not the way that you are meaning. My intentions are to marry with Horatio. As soon as possible. So send out the invitations, Father,” Spock said firmly. “I am ready to marry the man of my dreams.”

Both Sarek and McCoy rolled their eyes.

"You are really displeasing me, you know," Sarek protested.

"Perhaps it is time that I should be doing more of that sort of thing," Spock felt bold enough to say.

Oh, hell, what have I stirred up now, McCoy wondered.

 

“You know that we really can’t go through with this sham wedding, don’t you?” McCoy said a few minutes later, after Sarek had gone storming off and disappeared from sight.

“Why not?” Spock snipped. "You said that you would grant me three wishes. Well, my first wish is to marry you.”

“Look, I’m just the granter of wishes, not part of the bargain. I have a life. It may not be much of a life, but it is mine. And I need to get back to it.”

“If we were married, then you could take me with you. To Star Fleet. That is my second wish.”

“You are just using me to get away from your father!”

“We all use each other, at one time or another,” Spock stoutly declared as he diligently straightened his skirts that didn’t need straightening.

“Now’s a helluva time to get philosophical.”

“I am a logical person.”

McCoy looked actually pained. "You see? That's the trouble. I don't know you. You don't know me. It's not much basis for a marriage.”

“How about if I make it worth your while? I can tell that you like me. How about if I come to you tonight and get really friendly with you?”

McCoy studied Spock. “Are you really that desperate to get out of here that you would prostitute yourself?”

Spock clawed as his skirts to straighten them further. McCoy began to fear for the integrity of the expensive fabric. If Spock kept up with his personal grooming, his dress would be as tattered as morning fog over a languid lake. And as see-through.

And while that idea appealed to McCoy, he could not allow himself to dwell on a see-through dress on Spock. Other things were more important now. He put a quieting hand on Spock’s arm. “Hold it. You don’t need to shred your clothing to pieces to prove your point. I believe you.”

“You do not know how desperate I am,” Spock mumbled. “I would do anything to get out of here and have a life of my own, if only for a little while. Oh, I know that in time I will have to come back to Vulcan and assume my duties as ruler. But it looks like I should be allowed to have some freedom and adventures before that happens.” Spock’s eyes shone as he disclosed his fondest dreams. “Star Fleet Academy would be the perfect place for that. I could study science there and then travel into the farthest reaches of the universe. I could be a spaceman.”

“You really want to do this thing, huh?”

“Oh, yes! I could have escaped a long time ago, but I still want the respect of my father. That is my third wish. I want to know that my leaving is honorable and not done in a sneaky manner in the dead of night with a few clothes in a sack. That would be ludicrous.”

“You do seem a little old to be running away from home,” McCoy noted. "Are you sure that you really wouldn't rather have a pot of gold and a harem of winsome virgins who would be willing to please your every command?" he asked hopefully.

"Whatever would I need with those at Star Fleet?" Spock asked reasonably. "I would be crazy to wish for something that I do not need."

And McCoy, you’re a little crazy to be considering marriage to a guy whom you just met only a few short hours ago.

But that seemed to be the bargain he had just made.


	8. The Four Stooges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kenneth Branagh version of "Sigh No More, Ladies" from "Much Ado About Nothing" (1993) is not the rendition that I have going through my head. My high school drama class was fortunate enough to see a university version of "The Merchant Of Venice." Before the curtain went up, there was a lively and lyrical tune being played by the university strings. The notes were more even-flowing and melodic and not the "hurry-up-and-wait" of the Kenneth Branagh version. That university prelude tune is the song that I am hearing.

The young lovers spent as time as possible in each others' company, and this was one such afternoon. McCoy was seated in the back garden of the Vulcan royal palace with a placid look on his face. He was listening to Spock singing and accompanying himself on the lyrette.

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.  
Men were deceivers ever,  
One foot in sea, and one on shore,  
To one thing constant never.”

Chkariyas lounged around their feet or stretched out sunning themselves nearby. Such a sense of peace permeated the men and animals. It was very much a domestic scene of tranquility. It was one of those peaceful moments that anyone would want to encapsulate forever for a perfect memory. No wonder that McCoy wanted to savor every moment.

McCoy was totally mesmerized as Spock softly lisped the ancient words of a song from William Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing.” Shakespeare had been a poet before he was a playwright, and this tune proved his talent as the lighthearted lyrics reflected the easy nonsense of the happy farce of his ageless drama. The song equally seemed to fit this scene in the Twenty-Third Century, so it was indeed timeless.

“Then sigh not so, but let them go,  
And be you blithe and bonny,  
Converting all your sounds of woe  
Into hey nonny, nonny.”

Spock finished his song and set aside the lyrette. He smiled at McCoy, and McCoy smiled back.

McCoy swore that the soft music kept playing in the background, and maybe it did for him. He hadn’t been this relaxed and happy in a long time, and he wanted to make sure that Spock understood how gratified he was. 

“That was wonderful,” he lisped softly as his eyes glowed at Spock with all of the tender feelings that flowed through him. He felt so open, so vulnerable, so free. Anything could happen, and it was because of the presence of this amazing creature before him.

“You are a very receptive audience,” Spock lisped back. It was evident that he was feeling the same tender and open way that McCoy was experiencing.

“I never believed that there could be this much peace for me in the universe,” McCoy confessed. “And you’re the one who’s made that difference.”

“And the universe has never been so filled with promise and excitement,” Spock related back. “And I know that you are the one who has made that difference for me. Because of you, I now have a future, a future filled with new experiences and dreams come true.”

“You can’t believe that of me,” McCoy said modestly as he cast his head down. Even he who yearned for adulation from someone had found that there could be a saturation point for it. Besides, it was beginning to be important to him that Spock knew the real him.

“But I do,” Spock said softly. “You are the one who has brought me hope. Success depends upon me, but at least now I will have an opportunity. And I did not have that before. For that, I will always be grateful.”

McCoy looked up and smiled gently into the face that was looking at him with so much trust. He held out his hand. “Dance?”

“But there is no music.”

“Listen with your heart, and you will hear it the same as I do.” 

Spock accepted his hand, and they both stood. They smiled at each other for a few moments, then went into each others’ arms. The music seemed to be a slower version of “Sigh No More, Ladies,” and they swayed to it gently as the chkariyas carefully moved around the dancing feet of the men.

McCoy pulled back as they danced. “You’re kinda wonderful, did you know that?”

Spock smiled. “Odd. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

They swayed back and forth for a few moments, and then McCoy leaned forward and gently kissed Spock’s lips.

It was so wonderful to share a gentle kiss with the gentle man in his arms, McCoy thought.

McCoy pulled back again. “You’re kinda wonderful to kiss, too. Did you know that?”

Spock didn’t answer, but his eyes said that he was thinking the same thing about McCoy.

"I could dance the afternoon away with you," McCoy said softly.

"My thoughts exactly, Horatio."

And so they did while their friends the chkariyas kept watch and lived out the routine of their simple day.

 

Later as he was walking, McCoy looked up and grinned as he recognized a familiar figure. “Jim!” What are you doing here?!” McCoy demanded happily as Jim Kirk, ever resplendent in his gold and white garments, came sauntering toward him in the garden behind Sarek’s palace.

Kirk gave his friend a lazy smile with just a hint of hardness around the edges of it that reflected in his eyes. “Well, it seems like I got a wedding invitation.”

“Oh,” McCoy tried to remark noncommittally. 

“Yeah. For a wedding between you and Prince Spock of Vulcan.” Kirk’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Know anything about that?”

“Well, ah--”

“That’s not what you were sent down here for, you know.”

“Well, ah--”

”What happened? Did he make you an offer you couldn’t refuse?”

”Well, ah--”

”Did he swept you off your feet?!”

"Well, ah--"

Kirk’s eyes hardened. “Don’t tell me that he seduced you?!”

”Well, ah--”

“What’s the matter? Use all of your silver tongue oratory on the locals?!”

“Well, ah--”

“Bones! I gotta have more of an explanation than that! This was supposed to be your last chance! Remember?!”

“Well, ah--”

At that moment, Spock in his long white toga sailed into view, and he gave the newcomer his most charming smile and utter attention.

“And who is this charming stranger lately come among us?” Spock asked cordially, then answered his own question. “Captain Kirk, I presume!” he said as he beamed at Jim Kirk. “Your exploits have preceded you!”

Kirk smirked at McCoy. “Indeed.”

“Well, ah--”

“I have heard all about you, Captain Kirk.”

Kirk glared at McCoy. But since he wanted more of a response than 'well, ah,' he turned back to Spock. But he already had a chip on his shoulder about McCoy's failure to carry out his mission, so he was a little prejudiced. Kirk was determined not to be gracious toward Spock even though it wasn't Spock's fault. This Spock, though, was the one who had led McCoy astray, so McCoy could get in a lot of trouble about that. Kirk wasn't very happy about any of the situation.

“That makes you the lucky one then, doesn’t it?” Kirk snapped at the unsuspecting Spock.

“Oh?” Spock inquired genially. He seemed unfazed by Kirk's belligerency.

“Seeing as I don’t know a thing about you,” Kirk continued.

“Oh?”

“And I’m obviously not going to get any more information about you from your fiance.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, he can't say anything except for a few words.”

”Oh?”

”And it’s catching!”

”Oh?”

”Either that, or there’s one helluva echo on Vulcan!” Kirk snapped.

”Oh?”

”Yeah!”

"Oh!" Spock turned with a pleased and bemused smile to McCoy. “You did not tell me that you had such a clever and charming friend, Horatio.”

”Horatio?” Kirk echoed, staring at Spock. Had he heard right?

McCoy shrugged. “It never occurred to me, I guess.”

Spock wagged a reproving forefinger at McCoy. “Naughty boy, Horatio.”

“Horatio?” Kirk echoed again. He had heard right!

“He says the most amusing things, Horatio,” Spock explained.

“Horatio?” Kirk repeated, staring at McCoy.

“He’s a wordsmith, that’s for certain,” McCoy muttered. "You just can't tell it at the moment, though."

“Horatio?” Kirk asked, still confused.

“Jim! Stop that! It’s my middle name! Remember?! It’s Spock's pet name for me! He’s crazy about it! And he's crazy about me!”

”Really?! You?!”

”What’s so difficult to accept about that?!” McCoy demanded, miffed. “You’re not the only good looking visitor they’ve had lately!”

“But… Horatio?”

“Yes, Horatio! Now, who’s got the limited vocabulary?!”

“I don’t mean that. Why call yourself ‘Horatio?’”

”It’s part of my name!”

”But… Horatio?”

“You’ve known me a long time, Jim! What other middle name do you think that I have?!”

“What’s wrong with calling yourself ‘Leonard?’ Or ‘Bones?’”

“’Bones?’” Spock asked, taking up the discussion again. His curiosity was piqued.

”Yes, 'Bones,'” Kirk answered, turning to Spock. “Don’t you think that it fits him? Or hadn’t you ever realized that? I'm sure that you've had the opportunity to check out his bones quite thoroughly by now.”

Spock gave Kirk an amused smile. “I am not really interested in his bones, Captain. There are other parts of his anatomy that are far more exciting to me. I am far more interested in what goes on top of the bones and what all of it is hiding. I believe that I will be pleasantly pleased with having his obvious package all to myself. I plan to keep him quite busy in bed.”

Kirk blinked at the explicitness. For a sheltered creature, this Vulcan had a touch of vulgarity in his phraseology. Maybe that came with his extreme isolationism.

“See what I mean?” McCoy asked Kirk, sotto voce. "Told you that he was crazy about me." But why did he even bother since Vulcan hearing was so much sharper than Earthlings?’ "He's so innocent, though, that he has a little trouble with what shouldn't be said in public."

The earthy Kirk was still shocked by what Spock had said so openly. "Tell me about it," he mumbled to McCoy.

“Captain Kirk!” Sarek thundered as he appeared. “You made good time!”

Oh, great, McCoy thought. The Fourth Stooge.

Both Spock and Sarek turned and gave McCoy dirty looks.

They read minds, too? McCoy questioned.

Then he began to wonder if he’d actually spoken out-loud when the two Vulcans gave him looks again, but this time they were haughty.

"I believe that we have been neglectful of our guest," Sarek said graciously as he leered eagerly at Kirk's great beauty. "Captain Kirk, I have arranged for suitable accommodations to be at your disposal."

"I appreciate that, Ambassador," Kirk said with a lazy smile. "I would like to settle in, if you don't mind."

"I would be most happy to show you to your quarters. I particularly would like to show you our unique sunken tubs warmed by our natural hot geysers. We have perfumed oils that I would be most happy to help you to apply to your body," Sarek said as his eyes crawled over Kirk's golden physique. "As a gesture of greeting, of course," Sarek added.

"Of course." Kirk gave Sarek a languid smile. What was it about these Vulcan men that made almost everything they said seem X-rated? "That sounds like something I would really enjoy, Ambassador. But first I'd like to visit with my friend." He glanced at McCoy, "Horatio, if that would be possible, I’d like a few words. I believe that we have much news to exchange."

Sarek answered instead. "But, of course, Captain Kirk. I would like to share your company myself, but I understand your need to reacquaint yourself with your friend. Whenever you are ready, Captain, I will be at your disposal." His eyes warmed at Kirk.

"Ambassador, until we meet again," Kirk said with a stiff bow toward Sarek.

"Come along, Spock," Sarek said to his son. "We need to let these gentlemen have some time together." But both he and Spock cast longing eyes at their guests, Spock at McCoy and Sarek at Kirk.

"What the hell was that about?!" McCoy demanded. "Why were you coming on to Sarek?!"

"I believe that he started it, Bones. I haven't had such an obvious pass in a long time. It was rather flattering. It made me feel pretty and desirable again. Everyone needs to feel admired once in awhile."

"Hold on, Kirk! You can't become my father-in-law!"

That brought Kirk out of it. "And you can't marry the heir to the Vulcan throne."

"Can if I want to!" McCoy snapped back, but he knew that his case was going to suffer with Kirk looking at it.

"For starters, what can you possibly offer to a crown prince?"

McCoy gave Kirk a blatant, unblinking, 'come on, get real' look.

"Well, besides that."

"His freedom."

"Almost everybody in line for a crown wants the freedom to live his own life. But rulers are kinda compromised from the get-go. Nothing new there."

"He wants to be able to study science at Star Fleet Academy."

"Hmph," Kirk remarked. “Probably grew up with his Junior Science Kit and everything. Now he wants a grown-up science kit to play with.”

"Don't blow it off. It's one of his three wishes."

"Oh, hell!"

"He wants to marry me and he wants his father's respect. That's his other two wishes."

"You can't be serious!"

"Why not?! Why does nobody ever believe me?! When have I ever not been serious, I ask you?!"

"Are you certain that he doesn't want a potful of gold and twenty virgins for his loving and the strength of Atlas to handle the vigor of the virgins? That's what guys generally want."

"Not this guy. He's a thinker, a deep thinker. He has a rich interior life. And he’s quick, real quick, with abstract thinking."

"Hmm. Wonder how he'd be at three-dimensional chess? He might be a worthy debater, too. Among other things," he finished with a saucy smile.

"Hands off, Kirk! I saw him first!"

"Wouldn't hurt to ask," Kirk replied innocently.

"Yeah, I've seen how you ask for favors. With those bedroom eyes of yours and that come hither smile, the other person doesn't stand a chance,. One hundred spiders welcoming him into their parlors would be less invasive and more trustworthy than you."

"Me? Innocent, little, ol' me?" Kirk tried to ask in stunned shock.

"Yes. Innocent, little, ol' you! Hands off, Kirk! The Vulcan's mine!"

"Somehow, Bones, I think that fact isn't up to you, or me," Kirk said honestly.

McCoy grimaced. He had a feeling that every word that Kirk spoke in that sentence was the truth.

”So, how come he calls you ‘Horatio?’”

The frown melted off McCoy’s face. “He thinks it’s cute.”

”Cute?! There’s nothing cute about you unless it’s that wicked little grin you get, like you know something that I’d sure as hell like to know, but you’re not about to divulge it anytime soon.”

”He didn’t say that I was cute, just my name.”

”Let him marry your middle name then.”

”No, he’s got dibs on the whole package. And I do mean the WHOLE package. Know what I mean?!”

Kirk sighed. "Regrettably, yes. But I still believe that you're aiming pretty high, going after a prince and all."

McCoy's eyes twinkled. "Could be, he thinks that he's aiming a little high."

Kirk grinned fondly. "There's the old McCoy. And if your prince could bring that back, then I am eternally grateful."

"He brought it back, Jim, in spades," McCoy said soberly. "And it's all been my pleasure. Believe me."


	9. If You Believe In Magic

As he walked with Spock later, McCoy was stunned. He looked around him in wonder. “Spock! The gardens! They’ve changed! I don’t remember them looking so lush and full of vegetation! When did this all happen?!”

“Maybe you are seeing them through my eyes, Horatio,” Spock said with happiness.

“Could it be?! But they’ve changed so much!” He took a step. “Why, this plant! It looks familiar! It’s like one we have on Earth! The hosta!”

“Yes, we do have a variety of hosta that grows on Vulcan,” Spock said with pride.

“Now, these other plants. I don’t know their names. But they look rugged, like they belong here.” He glanced at Spock. “As if it takes fortitude to wrench out a life here on Vulcan, and even the plants know it.”

“It does take tenacity to live on my planet. Maybe that is why we are so strong in mind and purpose. Nothing comes soft to us, so we are taught to be stalwart.” Even as Spock explained these things to McCoy, it was as if he finally understood the truths of the lessons that his harsh planet had instilled in him down through the years. He had known all of these things; indeed, had known them all of his life. But until he told them to someone else, the utter beauty of the rightness of this knowledge had not occurred to him until now. 

He had said that McCoy was seeing the gardens through his eyes. Perhaps he was also seeing his world through McCoy’s, so that he now understood the uniqueness of Vulcan. Nothing improves the humdrum of everyday as a new perspective.

“But you are the crown prince of this world! How can you ever wish to leave it? This is your home! This is yours! You are wanted and needed here!”

“As a sovereign only, not as a person.” Spock turned away. “Maybe I need to leave Vulcan so that I can appreciate it.” He looked back at McCoy. “Just now, you gave me a glimpse of my world through your eyes and let me see how it seems to foreign eyes. Perhaps I can only return home until after I have left it.”

“Now you’re getting too deep for me,” McCoy said with confusion.

Spock put out his hand. “I have this hunger, this hunger to see more than just, just this.” He swept his hand around to take in the gardens. “Do not mistake me. I love these gardens. They feel more like my home than the house that my father built.” He nodded toward the mansion. “But he built it for my mother. Their hunger is for each other, and they can never seem to appease it. Their love is larger than the universe.” Spock lowered his head. “And I am just a by-product of it.”

“Spock. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that they made you feel that way.” McCoy thought of his parents and the loving relationship that he had enjoyed with them. They had made him feel like he was the center of their universe, which he probably was. “Wouldn’t your folks be disappointed if they knew you felt that way? Wouldn’t they feel hurt?” he asked softly as he pictured the sad looks on his own parents’ faces if he’d ever had misgivings about their devotion to him.

“They love me in their way, I suppose,” Spock answered. “They are both strong people who feel no need for constant or even occasional affirmation from those closest to them. It must have taken incredible strength of character for my mother to come to a strange planet to establish an educational system similar to ones present in England and Japan on Earth. She turned her back on her people and her culture to be a pioneer here. I believe that is one of the things that attracted my father to her.” Spock smiled shyly. “I always equated her to Hera and my father to Zeus.”

“Yes, I could see that.” 

McCoy could picture Amanda as Hera, the invincible image of women, marriage, childbirth, and family. He could even see Sarek as the unfaithful Zeus with his many lovers and illegitimate children on the side. McCoy did not have to work hard to believe that Sarek didn’t mind a little hanky-panky if it came his way. Hadn’t McCoy seen Sarek shine up to Kirk? Of course, it would be difficult for people of both sexes not to notice Kirk. But if Sarek was as crazy about Amanda as he claimed, how could he still be propositioning Kirk with his wanton eyes?

 

Sarek felt that he needed to try to talk some sense into his son’s head so he hunted him up. The chkariyas scattered as Sarek approached Spock in the back gardens.

“Father,” Spock said solemnly as he set aside his lyrette on the bench and stood to honor his sire.

“Spock, I must speak with you.”

Spock inclined his head. “Please do so, sir.” He would not be negligent in his parental respect.

“It is about you and Horatio.”

Spock grimaced and felt his rebellion rising, but he remained civil. “I await your council, Father.”

Sarerk’s famous diplomatic skills failed him. Now he was just a father, a frustrated father. “Spock, you have made your decisions too hastily. I fear that your head has been turned by the first person who agreed with you.”

“He is a good person, Father.”

“How can you say that?! He does not believe that much in himself. You are seeing him the way that you wish to see him.”

“He has much experience of life for his young years. Horatio has been telling me of the wonders of the universe beyond Vulcan.” 

“He can twist the truth to suit his purposes,” Sarek snorted. “And his purposes are not honorable!”

“Father. You are prejudging.”

“Spock, you are so naive. You know nothing of life.”

“And whose fault is that? You keep me a virtual prisoner here.”

“That is for your own good, son. The ways of the universe are too vulgar for your frail constitution.”

“I am as strong as any Vulcan!”

“It is not your bodily strength I question. It is your emotional health. The blending of Vulcan and Earthling backgrounds in you were compatible in all ways except emotionally. It has left you with an eternal battle within your soul for the best way to act. You feel that whichever way you turn emotionally, you will be wrong. The ways of men elude you, especially if those men are up to nefarious deeds. Your heart is too pure for the ways of the universe and of men.”

McCoy saw Spock’s dark eyes brighten and knew that Spock had hit upon a winning argument.

“Father, how am I supposed to rule after you if I do not know the ways of men? But how can I know the ways of men if I remain isolated on Vulcan? I cannot find my adult self in the world of my childhood home. Let me leave so that I can learn the ways of men. It is the only logical way if I am to be prepared properly for my future calling.”

Sarek began to beam with pride. “Ah, you are wise, after all! You do have some logic in your head!”

“Thank you, Father. I want only a chance to prove it.” Then Spock zeroed in for his next major point. “And I need to be able to improve my worldview. Let me go with Horatio and his friend Jim to Star Fleet Academy to learn more about the universe and about men. Let me go with men we can trust. For I need to explore the stars before I can govern myself and my fellow Vulcans.“

Sarek realized that all that Spock was saying was true, so he slowly nodded his head in assent.

 

Meanwhile, Jim Kirk was cross-examining McCoy. “You haven’t been having a little hanky-panky with him already, have you?! Bones, he’s a crown prince! He’s in line to be a great ruler someday!”

”Relax. Nothing’s happened between us.”

”Really? Nothing?”

”Nothing.”

”Bones, I’m surprised. You’ve generally scored by this time.”

”I think that he and I should wait,” McCoy mumbled. “You know, till the honeymoon. His mother will be here then.”

”She’s going on the honeymoon?! What sort of martial traditions do they have on this planet, anyway?!”

”No. But her son will be pure when he takes his marriage vows.”

“Is this some stipulation from her?”

”It’s my present to her. It’s a matter of faith that I will be good to her son and for her son.”

Kirk grinned. “You’ve changed, Bones, and it’s all for the good.”

 

Sarek had not changed, though, for he still seemed to have eyes for Kirk. He was Zeus to the core as he pulled Kirk away from McCoy as the two friends walked in the garden.

“Well, Captain, I am so happy that you have come among us.”

“Thank you, Ambassador.” Kirk preened. He did so love to be the center of attention, especially from a powerful, well-built, good looking, older man. He longed to start grooming his long wing feathers in a flirty manner, but he did not want to be too obvious just yet.

Sarek pulled a heavy arm around Kirk’s shoulders. “Have you seen much of our gardens?” he asked with a leer. “They are particularly beautiful by moonlight.”

How bold, Kirk thought as he looked back over his shoulder and gave Sarek his most coy smile.

Sarek’s eyes brightened with interest as his arm tightened around Kirk’s shoulders.

At that moment, Amanda Grayson appeared. And she was beautiful, arrogant, and mad.

All three men froze.

“Sarek, what is the meaning of this?!" she roared as thunderbolts flashed from her eyes. No wonder that Spock had such intense, but lovely eyes of his own. "Who is this creature whom you are fondling in so public a place?!”

Sarek sprang back from Kirk as if he had been scalded.

Good, McCoy thought, as he watched the drama. Now maybe Sarek would know how he had made McCoy and Spock feel when he had swooped down upon them.

“Amanda! My love! You are back!” Sarek sniveled as he made placating signs with his hands toward Amanda and shooing gestures toward Kirk. 

But Kirk held his ground.

“And not a moment too soon, it looks like!” she said as she stared coldly at Kirk.

“How did you find the school systems, my love? Much improved, I suppose, now that they have implemented the changes which you recommended and which I hastened to enforce whenever you suggested them.” Sarek wheedled, hoping to distract her with her favorite crusading cause.

“It will all be in my report. Later.”

Sarek’s heart sank. Amanda would not be side-tracked.

“Now, who is this golden man who is claiming your attention?”

“Don’t you wish instead to meet the man who wishes to marry our son, my love? This is Horatio.” Sarek nodded toward McCoy who smiled kindly at Amanda.

She did not acknowledge McCoy or his pleasant smile. Her focus remained on her groveling husband. “That is another issue. Who said that you could declare our son eligible for marriage?”

"He did himself.”

"And you let him get by with his impertinence? You know that he is intended for T'Pring. They have been bonded since they were children."

"He quite has his mind made up since he met Horatio, my love."

NOW McCoy had Amanda's attention. She eyed him as she would any other rival. "So you are the one who has turned my son's head."

"Yes, ma'am," McCoy mumbled with a gracious nod to her womanhood.

"And would my son still be interested in marrying you if his father and I allowed him to attend Star Fleet Academy?"

"I do not know, ma'am," McCoy answered with a heart that was suddenly growing heavy with the knowledge that things were about to be changed and not necessarily for the better.

"B-but, my love--" Sarek started.

"Yes?" Amanda asked coldly.

"What about the Vulcan Science Academy?" Sarek wheedled. "Spock could attend it."

"It must be what he wants, or he will not be dissuaded from marriage." Amanda looked back at McCoy. "My son no longer has a need for a marriage with you, Horatio. Are you going to stand in his way and insist on a marriage that will do him no good and will in fact hurt his future?"

"That was not my intention, ma'am," McCoy nearly whispered. He was so overwhelmed by what was happening that he barely could answer.

"I suggest that you examine your motives, Horatio," Amanda continued. "Would marriage really be the best thing for you, or for Spock? In fact, is it even necessary now? Does Spock need you anymore since his path to Star Fleet is assured without your help? Wasn't that all that he really wanted with you all along?"

McCoy cast his head down. He did not know the answer to those questions, nor could he even clear his mind to consider them. Instead, he began to feel the old, familiar inadequacies begin to gnaw at him. And with them, he realized that he really wasn't necessary to Spock.

For it was just as Amanda had said. Spock did not need him at all.


	10. The Path Of True Love

Kirk watched Sarek and Amanda walk away. "Well, my heart is broken," he whined. "And just when Sarek was taking a liking to me."

"Better than your heart than your head," McCoy muttered. "That Amanda could probably dispatch you quite easily, if she took a notion. Look what she just did to my wedding plans."

"Oh, here I wasn't being serious, and I should have been." Kirk gave him a sympathetic look. "Bones, I'm sorry. Are you devastated?“

McCoy squared his shoulders. "About what? It's all gonna work out. Spock will get to go to Star Fleet, and he'll have his father's respect. That's two of his wishes granted." McCoy shrugged. "As for the third wish, marrying me, he only wanted that because it was a way outa here."

"You don't know that. Spock might really care for you."

"Sure, he does! I'm the one who gave him the grit to talk back to his father. And Amanda finished off Sarek. She and I make a helluva team, don't you think?"

"Bones, I know you're hurting, and it's showing."

"Yeah, I've failed with the mission assigned to me."

"Not yet. You still will need to grant him a third wish."

"How about lifetime immunity for the chkariyas in the garden? I know he'd go for that."

Kirk frowned. "Bones, this isn't a time for you to be flippant."

McCoy grimaced. Anything he said would just sound like he was whining. And he sure as hell didn't want to sound needy. If he did that, if Jim started sympathizing with him, that's all it would take for him to lose any semblance of control over his emotions. And this all was too new, too raw, for him to deal with.

Not now.

Kirk mistook McCoy's quietness for reluctance to face Spock. "Spock won’t need the marriage clause to get to Star Fleet. He needs to know that,” Kirk said gently.

McCoy sucked it up and gave Kirk a wily grin that had not a trace of mirth in it. “Yeah, well, I better go tell him, shouldn't I?”

Kirk watched McCoy shuffle away. For someone who was finally granting wishes, McCoy didn’t seem very happy. Kirk sensed that wasn't the important issue to McCoy, anymore. He must have feelings for Spock, despite how he'd just acted.

Kirk had been half in jest about his heart breaking over Sarek, but Kirk felt as if McCoy’s heart was breaking for real.

 

“So you’ll get to leave Vulcan and go to Star Fleet Academy. And you’re going to be doing it with your father’s well wishes.” The only wish that McCoy had for himself was that he could be a little bit more enthusiastic for Spock. As for himself, he should be ecstatic. Hadn’t he finally succeeded at granting wishes?

Spock’s eyes were glowing. “Oh, Horatio! You did it! You made my wishes come true! All three of them!”

"Well, your third wish has been changed a little."

"Oh?" Spock questioned.

"Your third wish was an unspoken one that has come true. And perhaps it is the best of all."

"Oh?" Spock said, twisting his head as he tried to understand what McCoy was saying.

"You found the nerve to talk up to your father. Any great leader will need that ability, or else he will be destroyed."

"That is my third wish?"

"Yes."

"But what about our marriage?"

"You don't need that anymore."

"Yes, I do. I need you with me. I depend upon you. Without you, I am nothing."

”You’re mistaken--”

”It was only because of you that I found the courage to speak up to my father. It was you, Horatio, you.”

“No! That’s not right! You did it yourself! You made your father see things your way! You brought it all about! You!” McCoy turned aside. “Not me." He bit his lips together for courage. "Don’t you understand?” he asked as he turned back with his hand out in appeal. “You did it. If I did anything, it was to encourage you. And that’s all. The magic came from you.”

“I do not believe in magic, Horatio,” Spock said gently. “But I do believe in you.”

McCoy drew back. “Oh, no. Oh, no, you can’t. You can’t put that on me.”

“But I do. I believe in you.”

“No! Don’t you see?! I’m a fake! I did all of this so that I could succeed at something at last!” He reached back and shredded at the feathers in his wings as tears stung his eyes. “I was using you! And you fell for it! You fell for it!” He yanked out feathers by the handfuls until he could feel the tiny pinpricks of pain in his wings.

Spock touched his shoulder. “Horatio. Stop. You are hurting yourself. I see blood.”

But McCoy shook off Spock’s hand. “It’s nothing, nothing.”

He had no patience or time for Spock’s sympathy or for the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes or for the streaks of blood across his white feathers that were making a liar of him. His wings were hurting like hell. Good! Good! That meant that he was still capable of feeling. Now was he capable of doing something good?

Or was he still out after something for himself? He’d never been good at anything before, why should now be any different? Wasn’t he going to be doing the same, stupid mistakes that he’d always done?

Instead, he grabbed Spock’s arm and looked earnestly into his eyes. “You go to Star Fleet and you make something of yourself! You go be your own man, you hear?!”

“But--”

“And you’ll succeed because the magic is in you. You! Understand?! I had no magic to give you.”

“But you did,” Spock said softly. “You helped me to believe in myself. And for that, I am grateful, my love. Now you must believe in yourself. You need to realize just how wonderful you are--”

“No, no,” McCoy objected as he shook Spock’s arm. “You are mixing love up with gratitude. They are two different things. I just helped you, that’s all. I am a catalyst, just a catalyst, and nothing more--”

“But you are, to me. So much more.” Spock sounded lost. “If I cannot have you, I will have nothing to believe in.”

“No! That is when you believe in yourself!” He grabbed Spock by the arms. “You have to listen to me! You have to forget me! I am nothing! Nothing!”

“No, no--”

“Yes!” He shook Spock and looked wildly at his bent head. “You’ve got to go out there and succeed! I never have, but that’s no reason why you shouldn’t. Here’s your chance! Take it! Reach for the stars!”

Spock raised his head. Confusion twisted his face. “But I cannot reach for the stars without you.”

“Yes, you can! You must do this! For yourself!”

“But I love you.”

McCoy steeled his heart and his resolve for what he must say. But it was for Spock’s good.

“You don’t know what love is!”

“Yes, I do. It is kindness and sincerity and encouragement--”

“That was my con! That was my scam!”

“Please. I need you.”

McCoy ignored the tears that were running down Spock’s face. “You don’t need anybody but yourself!”

Spock held out his hand. “But I lov--”

McCoy flung Spock aside, and the grieving Vulcan just barely managed to catch himself on the balustrade beside his bench. The chkariyas hiding in the short foliage hissed at McCoy. It hurt that even the little animals hated him. But it was for the best.

Good, good, McCoy thought. Hate me. But love him. He still needs you. But I can’t help him anymore. I’m no good for him.

I never was.

Spock crouched low and looked up at McCoy with disbelief on his face. “How could you? I thought that you loved me.”

McCoy flinched, but knew what he had to say. “Everyone’s out for themselves. You better learn that if you’re going to survive in this or any world.”

Spock slowly straightened. “I suppose that this is the start of my education then.”

McCoy steeled himself. “Yes.” He nodded. “Now I will leave you. You have no further need for me."

Spock nodded back, although he was trembling. “Yes.”

McCoy turned and left, but a trail of shedding feathers followed him. But McCoy did not notice that pain, because the pain in his heart was so much greater.

 

“Well, what have you done now, Bones?” Kirk asked as he watched McCoy.

“What had to be done,” McCoy muttered as he threw his cloak and spare dress into his traveling bag. House shoes and various toiletries flew in after them willy-nilly.

“You know that your belongings will fit in your luggage just as well without your flinging them.”

“Everybody’s got so much free advice today,” McCoy muttered as he pulled the ties of the sack together so fast and so hard that they almost broke.

Kirk put a hand out to stop McCoy’s twisting hands. “What happened?” he asked softly.

“Spock is going to Star Fleet, that’s all that matters,” McCoy muttered as he turned away.

“No, it doesn’t, Bones.”

“I’ve got a real name!” McCoy snarled. “Use it!”

Kirk didn't actually blink, but he studied McCoy a moment quietly. “Certainly. If that’s what you want, Leonard. There. Better?"

McCoy bit his lips together, but didn't answer.

"I thought you liked it when I used a special name for you.”

McCoy put his hand to his forehead and wiped across his face. “I do. You know I do. But it reminds me of someone else who uses a special name for me, too. No matter how much I try to tell him, he still insists on calling me ‘Horatio.’ Isn't that about the dumbest thing you've ever heard?!” Even he heard his voice break on the question.

“Maybe he likes that name,” Kirk murmured.

“But he’s so stupid about everything outside of his own back garden! He talks to animals and thinks that men will be as open and trusting as those animals are to him! How naive! What are you gonna do with a guy that naive?! He’s going to get eaten alive out there!”

“He needs our help at Star Fleet Academy, Bones,” Kirk said softly.

“Not my help. Maybe yours, but not mine.”

“Especially yours. He knows you better. Besides, he loves you.”

“He does not love me! He just thinks he does. I’m just the first person to treat him nice and encourage him and back him up--” He stopped. “Oh, hell, no wonder he thinks that he loves me! I gave him a wonderful person to fall in love with!”

“I’m thinking that he’s not the only one who fell in love.”

“That what happened between you and Sarek, whatever it was, was just lust.”

“I’m not talking about Sarek and me.”

“Then who?”

“I’m saying you.”

“What?”

“I’m saying that you fell in love. In love with Spock.”

McCoy stopped and stared at Kirk. “What?!”

“Why else are you cutting all of the cords between you two? You think that you’ll be holding him back--”

“I will!”

“But you won’t. In fact, he might even get cold feet and stay on Vulcan.”

“What?!”

“And then your mission to grant him three wishes won’t be fulfilled. And you’ll be out of Star Fleet for good. And after this fiasco and your record of failures, I doubt that you could even get a maintenance job on a Federation penal colony on some desolate ice planet.”

“I don’t care about my stupid record or my stupid life! I’m expendable! My career is over, anyway. But not his! He can’t throw everything away! He’s gotta go prove himself! Life is just opening up for him! He's gotta have his chance!”

“There you go again,” Kirk said softly.

“There I go again, what?!” McCoy thundered.

“Sacrificing yourself for him. Bones, if that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.”

McCoy slowly sank into a chair and put his face in his hands. “It’s true. I love him. How could I help myself not to? When he looked at me with that goofy, trusting face, I was won over.” He wiped his hand down his face as he looked up. “How could I not fall in love with him? I’ve never had anybody believe in me that much. Not even you, despite all you've done. Hell, you even grew wings for me. That’s being a friend.” He looked steadily at Kirk. “Logic says that I should’ve fallen in love with you. You’re the one’s who’s trailed after me all of these years.”

“We can’t explain love, Bones. It just happens.” He shrugged. "And it just didn't for us. But you still deserve something good in life."

”Yeah? Well, nothing’s gonna help me now.” He turned away in dejection.

"Leonard-- Wait."

"Bones, damn it. I'm not even worthy of a real name. I'm nothing, Jim. Nothing. And there's no use trying to tell me any different. I'm just in one helluva mess, and I did it to myself."

And at that moment, Kirk could only agree with him.


	11. You Can't Ignore Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Oogie Details Ahead! According to the Urban Dictionary, "oogie" means "extremely gross or disgusting; attended to by unfavorable circumstances." Well, there are "oogie" details in this chapter, so be forewarned.

His wings fell off the next day. That meant that he officially wasn't a male fairy godmother anymore. He didn't know if he ever had been, or if it had just been something else that he had been doing while he was marking time in this miserable existence.

McCoy hid the wings in the back part of the garden where plants were allowed to grow wild and nobody hardly ever ventured. The chkariyas had followed him out of curiosity (that apparently was a trait of a lot of the creatures native to Vulcan) and really seemed interested in his bloody cast-offs. He didn't have the heart to shoo them away from their windfall as they scampered eagerly among the bloody feathers and stringy sinews. Instead, he allowed the little animals to forage to their hearts’ content.

“Have them with my blessings,” he muttered as the little animals sniffed at the wings. After a few moments they got brave enough to nibble at them. McCoy winced as he heard the beginnings of delighted crunching noises. Those wings had once been a part of him. It was like being eaten alive. Now he understood about phantom limbs and why people said that they could still feel them even though the appendages were gone.

But McCoy didn't blame the chkariyas. He remembered that they were just doing their jobs. They cleaned up carrion and other refuse that littered the garden. And that was certainly an apt way to describe him or any part of him, alright. Refuse.

“Take the damn wings. They won’t do me any more good, guys. At least something will benefit from them.”

McCoy shuffled slowly back to his quarters in the mansion in a funk. Already the planet was losing its appeal for him. The red boulders looked harsh and foreboding once more. The scrubby plants, that managed to somehow thrive, clung dubiously to a tenuous life among the arid rocks were painful looking in their overwhelming struggle with the inhospitable environment.

This chapter of McCoy’s life was over. All it needed was for the cover to close on that book. His presence yet on Vulcan was merely a footnote, something to be tolerated until he could move on and cause as little disruption to these people’s lives as possible.

Now all that interested him was waiting for the time when he and Jim could beam up to a passing ship. It couldn't happen fast enough, as far as he was concerned. What awaited him beyond that spaceship ride was anybody's guess. But right now, he really didn't care. Just so he away from Vulcan, and Spock, forever.

Where had it gone so wrong? Where was that bright-eyed boy from Georgia who had been so eager to follow in his father’s footsteps as an old country doctor? Why hadn’t he just gotten his medical degree, moved to some medium-sized town located in that honest red Georgia clay, and married Etta Mae or Thelma Grace or whatever the name for the sheltered daughter of some local fundamentalist minister was? Why did he ever think that he had to be different, had to fly in space, had to race with the gods on their own turf in the sky? Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

Well, whatever he thought that he was at one time, was lost to the world now. Now he was just another failure that Life had beaten down for yet another time.

The only trouble was that now there was nowhere left for McCoy to go. He was officially a man without a life. But that was alright, just as long as Spock had an opportunity for his. Somebody should win at this miserable excuse for existence, because it sure wasn't going to be him.

It was hard telling how long he insulted himself in that unfeeling cocoon, sitting dejected and staring at a wall. He was thinking that someone could roam the halls of the royal mansion for hours without coming across another living soul. Oh, he'd glimpse a servant or two scuttering in and out of rooms, but they were more will-of-the-wisp than beings. McCoy began to wonder if they were actually hallucinations.

Even an impromptu walk through myriad corridors did not change his opinion of the silent mansion. He wondered what the place would be like with life in it? Sarek and Amanda had to have quarters somewhere, but he never found them. He wondered where they were entombed away. He wondered whom all of the empty rooms were for? It certainly didn't seem to be for the living.

At last McCoy settled in his own room again and slumped into a chair. He sat dejected and tried to turn off his mind. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to think. That’s all he needed for awhile: not to think. He would let Jim Kirk lead him around. Maybe they could go visit some of Jim’s extended family in Iowa. McCoy didn’t know if he had the heart to seek out any of his own family that was still remaining in Georgia. They’d want to know what he was doing and how his career was going. And McCoy wanted to forget all about that pain and misery. He did not want to reminded of it ever again.

All he wanted was to make his mind a blank and just sit without being disturbed. And wait for a passing spaceship to pull him away from this miserable planet.

 

That worked well for a few hollow, empty minutes, and then all hell broke loose. But it didn't come from a despondent McCoy.

Sarek burst into the room without knocking. The Ambassador looked wild and alarmed and seemed to be almost foaming at the mouth.

“What the--” McCoy demanded at the sight and tightened his muscles for flight as he raised himself halfway out of the chair.

Sarek seemed to be gasping for breath as he stared in disbelief at McCoy.

"You! You are here!"

“Ambassador! What’s wrong?!”

“Horatio! Oh, thank goodness! You can speak! You are not an illusion! You are alright! Oh, goodness! I was so afraid!” Immediately, Sarek’s face cleared of his concern. But then he did something more alarming yet. He clutched at his chest near his left armpit where his heart was located.

McCoy jumped to his feet. Doctor-mode clicked in when he saw a man having distress. He grabbed Sarek’s arm and eased him into the chair which he had just vacated.

“Here. Sit down,” McCoy ordered. “Calm yourself. Try to breathe normally.”

Sarek gasped for air. “I’m too old for this sort of trauma!” he blurted.

“Have you had an attack like this before?” McCoy wanted to know. “Do you have a history of heart trouble?”

“No! It’s just that I was rushing around. And I was so afraid--”

“What happened? What caused your alarm?” McCoy asked as he noted that Sarek was starting to breathe normally and his face was beginning to green up again. “Here. Drink this.” He handed Sarek some water from a carafe.

Sarek drank the water gratefully. “Thank you. That’s better.” Sarek concentrated on breathing for a long moment. “Much better. Sorry to startle you, bursting in here the way I did.”

“That’s alright. I thought that something had happened to Jim or to-- to someone else.” He didn’t say it, but he meant Spock. “Is everyone okay?”

“Now. Yes, now. Now that I see that you still live.”

“What? What are you talking about? What do you mean, now that you see that I still live? Was I the one in danger?”

“Yes! Or so I thought. I had gone to the garden to talk to Spock, but he was so dejected that he was not even listening. He was just plunking on his lyrette while chkariyas were gathering around him. He seemed to have lost all of his determination and willpower. He wouldn't even answer. His state upset me so much that I wandered aimlessly around the gardens thinking about him. Horatio, he is no good to anyone in this condition, least of all himself. It was so sad to see.” Sarek shook his head. "So sad." Then he pursed his lips and frowned, remembering. "And then, and then--"

”Yes? What happened then?” McCoy prompted.

“And then I found your bloody wings in the garden. Or what is left of them. The chkariyas had dragged them up from somewhere. Some of them were still chewing on the feathers, but I could tell that they were from your wings. Alarmed, I shooed the chkariyas away and began hunting for the rest of you. They hurried in the direction where I'd left Spock. I followed the trail of blood, instead, not knowing if you were at the end of it. I found a lot of blood at one spot, but not you.”

”I lost my wings today. I had failed in my mission, so I was demoted to, to nothing, I guess.”

”I am sorry for that. But you have no idea what finding the remains of those bloody wings did to me and not just for Spock’s sake. I feel that I have grown fond of you over the last few days. At least it was something beyond mere tolerance.”

”Thank you. And I want you to know that it was never my intention to put a wedge between you and your son. I was just trying to fulfill an assignment. And failed.” He shrugged. “But what about you and what you were finding. Or rather, what you weren’t finding.”

”I was beside myself with remorse. I-I feared that you had harmed yourself or had even ended your life. I saw blood and assumed that it was yours."

"It was. My shoulders bled where my wings ripped off. I let the chkariyas lick my back. I figured that their saliva was healing, the same as a dog's is. Besides fighting bacteria by disinfecting, it helped a lot in other ways. The salt on their tongues smarted as it bit into my raw skin, but it cleansed my flesh, too. And it felt good, to have them licking on me. It was so soothing to be stroked and handled." He bit his lips together. "At least something didn't mind touching me. Sometimes you just yearn for something to touch you, you know? Just so you don't feel despicable."

"But I saw some of your blood that had dripped on the ground. It looked like your flesh and bones had been consumed by the creatures and that your wings were going to be the last parts of you to go down their ravenous gullets. Damned chkariyas! I told Spock that they are devils! But he loves those little bastards and will not allow any harm to come to them! Heaven only knows what he would think if he saw what I had seen of your evident demise. He would be devastated!”

McCoy paled. “Spock didn’t see the wings, did he?”

“No, and thank goodness he didn’t. It would have killed him to think that you were dead. I could not bear to think of the pain that knowledge would have caused Spock. He would suffer a blow from which he might never be able to recover.”

McCoy couldn’t stand the thought of Spock suffering eternal pain, either. To have that sunny and gentle person in the throes of any kind of sorrow hurt McCoy worse than any of his own problems did.

He knew what Kirk would tell him about that, but McCoy didn't have time to think about what that meant now.

”I don’t want him hurting because of me,” McCoy muttered.

”I do not wish him to be suffering, either. On that we can certainly agree.” Sarek looked at McCoy levelly. “Horatio, you may not realize it, but I’m not a mean person. I am not trying to deliberately bedevil Spock. I want what is best for my son.”

”I do, too. That’s why I’m leaving at my first opportunity.”

”No, Horatio.”

”Hmm?”

”You cannot leave Vulcan unless you take Spock with you and unless you both go to Star Fleet.”

“What?”

”I want what is best for my son,” Sarek softly repeated. “And I think that is you.”

McCoy frowned. “Are you saying--”

”Yes. I have been an old fool.”

”Not that. I didn’t mean that.”

”It’s the new version of the truth that my wife has managed to instill in me.”

McCoy felt a smile tugging at his lips. Even the mighty Sarek had to answer to someone. “Spock’s mother seems to be a very determined lady.”

”That she is,” Sarek said with a sigh. “It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with her. It has also been a constant trial, though. I fear that Spock has inherited that trait from his mother.”

”And she would probably say that Spock had inherited it from you.”

”She probably would. And she might be right.”

How good it was that the two of them could almost joke about this whole distressing matter. They both enjoyed the moment’s respite when they could both relax with each other.

”You will be good for Spock, Horatio.”

”My name is really ‘Leonard.’ ‘Horatio’ is my middle name.”

”It’s a pet name that Spock has for you, so it really makes no difference whatever you want to call yourself. You’ve already done him a world of good. But now he’s felt too much with his limited experience, and it is really hurting him. He has fallen in love and has had his heart broken when you turned him aside.”

”I thought that a clean break would be best for him.”

“Well, it hasn’t been. He has been unresponsive since you split with him. He is no good to anyone this way. He needs his heart restored, and you are the only one who can do that. I doubt that even his mother could instill any ambition in him at this point. Help him. Please. You are the only one who can. Take him to Star Fleet Academy and let him live his dream. All I ask is that you be good to him.”

McCoy began to smile. He felt lighter and more hopeful than he had in days. “I believe that I can handle that request quite to your satisfaction, sir.”


	12. To Infinity With You

McCoy hurried through the gardens at the back of Sarek’s mansion. Wait until he told Spock the news! Wouldn’t he be excited!

McCoy grinned as he spotted Spock sitting on his favorite bench beside the balustrade. He seemed to be slumped over and looking down at the chkariyas that were draped around and over his feet. His lyrette lay discarded on the bench beside him, as if he had sung the chkariyas to sleep and now was watching them fondly as they slumbered.

Odd that there was no motion out of anything, either from Spock or from the chkariyas, McCoy thought as he rushed toward the tranquil scene. Generally those damn little weasels were scurrying all over the place, getting underfoot and curious as hell about what was going on in their world. Surely they would’ve been aware of McCoy’s approach by this time and would've either been sassing at him or running toward him in excited welcome.

“Spock!” McCoy called, eager to share his news.

Nothing moved. Odd, McCoy thought again. Odd that Spock with his Vulcan hearing wouldn’t have turned to the sound of his voice. Odder still that the chkariyas didn’t chirp or even lift their curious little heads at his approach. 

McCoy almost longed for them to jump to their feet, bristle up, and sass him for daring to disturb their dear world and their dearer Spock. In fact, McCoy was beginning to hope that the little critters would do just that thing so everything in this back garden would seem normal again. What McCoy was seeing didn't seem right at all.

Nothing moved except for McCoy. It was as if life itself had paused and was holding its breath as he advanced. McCoy didn’t like it. It was almost as if he was disturbing something holy, as an invader would. He didn’t like being the outside force that had sucked the life out of this world.

For life had indeed been sucked out of this world. And McCoy seemed to be the only thing alive in it.

That did not seem right at all!

Then McCoy got a feeling of dread.

What if none of them could lift their heads anymore?

What if none of them no longer lived?!

What if Spock had decided to protect his little friends the only way left open for him?

What if McCoy had just discovered a vast suicide pact?!

No! What had they done to themselves?!

He paused in front of them.

“Oh, hell, don’t be dead!” McCoy muttered. "I'm really gonna hate that if you are!"

Spock opened one eye and glared up at him. “Go away.” He closed his eye and settled back to his former position of looking down at the chkariyas.

Some of the chkariyas stirred at Spock’s feet, then quieted again when they saw that Spock had resumed his silent sentry duty over them.

McCoy took a deep breath of relief. Spock and his beloved critters still lived!

“Spock, what the hell is going on?!” McCoy demanded as he took a step forward. Relief had turned to annoyance. Why had they frightened him this way?! How dare they?!

Spock opened both eyes, and his glare intensified. “Go. Away. And leave us in peace to do what we must do.” He closed his eyes in determination again.

“What? Do what? Die? How are you doing it? Did you take a poison? Tell me what it was, and I’ll find an antidote. It must be awfully slow acting as responsive as you still are. I’ll save you, and then we can save the chkariyas.”

Spock opened one eye again. “Why are you interested in saving the chkariyas? You always hated them.”

“Now, how can you go and say that? I’ve always treated them exactly the way that they have treated me. Granted, when I first got here, they scared the hell outa me. I’m not used to seeing pets with front paws like a mole and sporting six razor-sharp claws on the ends of those paws.”

“That is so that they can climb and dig. They must be constantly foraging for food because of their high metabolic rate.”

“Well, I know that now, don’t I? How was I supposed to know how they generally act? The pets I’m used to are dogs and cats. They don’t look at me like they've just seen prime rib for the first time. Dog and cats don't act like they’d like to cut me up with their claws and eat me for supper.”

“Humpf!” Spock uttered a disdainful noise, then crossed his arms to show his annoyance with McCoy’s interference.

McCoy figured that it was important to keep Spock talking. Spock didn’t seem in immediate danger, but well might slip into a state where he couldn’t be reached if McCoy didn’t keep him conscious. 

“So, what did you and your little ‘pets’ take?”

“Nothing. I am just going to sit here until I die. The chkariyas, as well.”

“How the hell do you propose to do that?! By using some sort of ‘Think Method?!’”

“It worked for you and Captain Kirk when you were growing wings.”

“That’s a helluva lot different than trying to think yourself to death!”

Spock uncrossed his arms and looked at McCoy. “I figure it will be easier than what you two gentlemen did. Growing wings, when you are not predisposed to do so, must have taken quite a lot of determination.”

“Well. Yeah. We were pretty dedicated, I’ll have to give you that,” McCoy relented. "I missed a lot of poker games and my share of expensive bourbon and some damn good loving. Or the other way around works, too." He frowned. “So, you figure that you’re just gonna sit here and starve yourself to death?”

“That was the plan; yes.”

“And the chkariyas with their higher rate of metabolism will starve quicker than you.”

Spock frowned at that piece of logic. “Yes.”

“So, you’re prepared to sit here and watch your friends get weaker and weaker from malnutrition and finally die? Can you actually watch them doing that? Hmm? Especially since they are starving themselves simply because you are wanting to die? That's asking an awful lot from them, isn't it?”

"If I die, the chkariyas will be exterminated anyway. Father will have them killed."

"He doesn't have the heart to do that! He just threatens, but he can't knowingly harm life. Besides, he'd never get all of the little bastards. Some would get away, because they'd want to live. But not now. Now they are willing to die with you. Just because of you."

Spock looked guiltily at the small creatures at his feet. So trusting. So loyal.

“Their lives depend on you. How selfish you are to ask them to do this thing with you.”

Spock bit his lips together.

“Already it might be too late for these gentle creatures who asked nothing more than to do what you bid them to do.” McCoy crossed his fingers behind his back on the ‘gentle creatures’ reference. After all, that was the way that Spock viewed the chkariyas. “How could a Vulcan ever be responsible for that kind of carnage? I thought that you tried to avoid causing harm to other living things. Besides, these are not only living things, but your friends. Their deaths will be on your head. And soul. And karma.”

Spock looked wild.

“But think of them. They will be dead. And no longer will they play in these beautiful gardens.” Once again McCoy crossed his fingers. “Their joy that they brought to this world will be gone forever. And nothing will be left for them, but to become carrion for other foraging creatures.”

“No! No!” Spock leaned down and nudged the pliable, lethargic creatures to their feet. "Up, my friends, up!" They protested because they were weak, but Spock insisted. McCoy bent and helped shove the animals around. “Go! Go!” Spock ordered them. “Eat! Eat! Eat your fill! And live!” he yelled at them as they stumbled away.

“Is it too late for them?” he asked McCoy as he anxiously watched the departing creatures.

McCoy shrugged. “Hopefully not. They’ve got as much a chance of survival as any other living thing.”

Spock’s eyes filled with tears. “The little creatures must not die because of me.”

“And neither should you.”

“Go away, Horatio,” Spock said as he turned aside. “My life is over.”

“No, it isn’t,” McCoy said as he felt a grin tugging at his lips. “It’s just beginning.”

Spock looked up with suspicion on his face. “What are you saying?”

The grin won, and a smile spread over McCoy’s face. “Your father relented! He thought that I had harmed myself and that he was responsible for that harm. He felt as guilty about me as you felt about the chkariyas just now.”

“How did he relent?” Spock asked with just a little suspicion in his voice.

McCoy was so happy that he could barely get it said. “Your father told me to take you to Star Fleet Academy and to let you live your dream. All he asked was that I be good to you.”

“I do not understand how such a thing could be?”

“He said that he wants what is best for you.”

Spock frowned. “But why did he change his mind?”

”He said that it was the new version of the truth that your mother had managed to instill in him.”

Spock managed a weak smile over that statement.

“He also said something else,” McCoy said softly. “When he said that he wanted what was best for you, he said that I was it.”

Spock acted disgusted and turned aside.

“What? What’s wrong now? Isn't this what you wanted?” He waited a moment with no response. “You might as well answer, because I’m not going away until you do.”

Spock looked at him with guarded eyes. “Did he also think that I was what was best for you?”

“What?! What silliness is that?! What are you talking about?! Of course, you’re what is best for me! Why would you think that you weren’t?! Look, I was just saying that other stuff before to get you off your rear-end and on your way!"

“I know. Because you thought I was better off without you.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.” McCoy said with second thought. “Now that you say it out loud and all.”

“I suppose that now that the crisis is over about me taking my own life, you will still want to step aside to let me have my opportunity without your hindering me.”

McCoy frowned. “Well, there is that, too.” 

“But how are you going to step aside if you are supposed to take me to Star Fleet Academy?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. I just know that you really don’t need me tagging along, if you don't want me to be tagging along.”

“But you need to be tagging along.”

“Eh?”

“For your sake. You need to come with me and share a future with me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that--”

“Horatio, do you know why I was going to take my own life?”

“I suppose because I was unfaithful and had disappointed you--”

“That was partly the reason. I was also distraught because I had failed you.”

McCoy frowned. “You failed me? How could you have failed me? And what difference would it have made?”

“Oh, Horatio, you are important, too! Do you not know that?!”

McCoy shrugged. “Well, I--”

“It is just as I thought. You are despondent. You think that you have no worth. Well, you do. To me! But I failed you."

"How? How do you think that you had failed me?"

"I just did, that is all," Spock said stubbornly.

But McCoy wouldn't give up. “What are you saying?”

“You wanted me to believe in myself. Well, I asked the same thing of you. And when I saw that you couldn’t, I knew that I had failed. What good was I if I could not even give you hope for the future? It was better if I and my little chkariyas friends were no longer around to cause problems.”

McCoy knelt, took Spock’s hand in his, and gazed up into Spock’s eyes with a gentle smile.

“The world without you and the chkariyas? Now, what kind of colorless world would that be?"

Spock looked down and away from McCoy's inquiring eyes. Spock felt shy and sheepish, but he did not pull away his hand.

But McCoy was still persistent as he gazed at the bent head. "You listen to me and you listen to me good, you hear?" His thumb stroked across the hand that he held. "Oh, my darling, darling princess, you are my hope for the future. You! How could you ever doubt it? I just need you in my future so it will have meaning for me.”

Spock’s other hand flew to his mouth as he looked up at McCoy and gasped.

"I'm not too certain exactly when it happened, but somewhere in the last few days I fell in love with you. For real. And I never want to be without you in my life again."

"Oh, Horatio, I feel the same way."

"I think that it might have happened while we were dancing the afternoon away. I have never been so contended or so complete as that day. I wanted it to never end."

Tears sprang into Spock's eyes and it was evident that he was in agreement.

McCoy gently kissed the palm that he held. “I say that we need to stop being so hard on ourselves. Okay?” he said softly. “Just give me a chance, huh? Give us a chance? There’s no guarantees, but we can give it one helluva shot.” His eyes got really earnest. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Spock whispered back.

"Wanna seal that deal between us with a kiss?" McCoy asked hesitantly as he looked up at Spock with tender eyes. "I know that I've sure been missing your kisses."

"Alright. I have been missing your kisses, too," Spock answered softly as he leaned down toward McCoy.

And as those soft lips settled on his once more, McCoy thought that he had never tasted anything finer. And that was saying something, because he liked his good Kentucky bourbon almost any way that he could get it.

But he loved his Vulcan princess better.

"How about another dance with me? Right now?" McCoy asked as he stood and pulled Spock to his feet and into his arms. "I can't think of any other way that I'd rather spend this afternoon than with my beloved and dancing to music that only we can hear."

So that is what they did as their little friends the chkariyas scurried happily around their feet. And if it was possible, the two fell more in love than they had been.


	13. Coda

”Here we are, guys,” Kirk announced as the three of them stood at the aft viewing port of the ship that had taken them aboard. “In space. We’re on our way.”

”Well, how do you two feel to be wearing blue jeans and denim shirts?” McCoy wanted to know as he paraded around in his new set of clothes.

“I feel like I should be headed somewhere to be shoveling coal into the belly of some tramp steamer belonging to some pirates on the South China Sea,” Jim Kirk mumbled as he looked at their clothing. “All that’s missing is my pea coat and my sailor hat and my fife so I can play sea chanteys while you two swab the decks. Then my whole world would be what I could cram into my duffel bag.”

“What are you complaining about?” McCoy demanded. “You look wonderful. Nothing can camouflage your great body or mar that beautiful face, not even the clothing of the common man.”

Kirk sniffed with disdain. “This garb won’t exactly get me a seat at the captain’s table. And I wouldn’t mind that.”

”I think you won’t have to worry. I saw how Captain Murdock was looking at you. I doubt if he even noticed what you were wearing. He was probably picturing you without any clothing at all.”

That cheered Kirk up immensely. “Just saying, I’d feel snappier in something dressier.”

“Now have you heard any arguments from Spock? And he’s the one who has really changed his wardrobe. Imagine not wearing tunics anymore. Imagine having to get used to denim chafing certain areas of his anatomy. He never had that problem with a tunic.”

“Well, I will admit that the tunics we wore as male fairy godmothers were certainly freeing,” Kirk conceded. In fact, he even grinned. “We had natural air conditioning.”

”That’s the spirit!” Now that he had Kirk feeling better about himself, McCoy turned to Spock. “You’re awfully quiet. Are you having regrets about leaving Vulcan?”

“It will be a different life.”

“Yes, and one you wanted,” McCoy reminded him.

“I know.” He pondered a moment. “I will miss my garden and the chkariyas, though.”

“I know.”

“And the chkariyas will miss me.”

“Yes, they will. But they’re going to be protected. Your father is seeing to that. A special guard will be stationed in the garden. Your chkariyas will never go hungry again."

"It was very nice that Captain Kirk gave them his wings as a going away present,” Spock noted. “The chkariyas will eat on them for quite awhile.”

”Well, the wings fell off when I decided not to be a male fairy godmother captain anymore. That Think Method really works fast, both ways. Too bad that divorces don’t work that easily.”

”I am still sorry that I did not notice that you were missing your wings when you came to rescue me,” Spock said to McCoy.

”Well, you were kinda tied up trying to think yourself dead, and then I kinda overwhelmed you into living. And then we had to make certain that those little bas-- that the chkariyas lived.”

”It is nice to be able to put my arms all the way around you instead of having them land in a handful of feathers. They were really lush. They must be so tasty,” Spock said with a pleased look on his face. Then he sobered.

”What?” McCoy asked. “What’s wrong?”

”The chkariyas. I keep thinking about them.”

”I know you do,” McCoy said softly. “You have a gentle heart. But they will be okay, and they will have company from the special guard. I understand that some children will play with them at certain times and bring them special treats. They will not be bored.”

“But the chkariyas will forget me. And after awhile, they will forget the life that we had together.”

“That's for the best, don't you think? Would you want them to remember you and grieve for your absence? And that’s what would’ve happened when you went away. And you had to go away. You have to have your chance. You have to meet new people and have new experiences. The chkariyas have to move on, too. That’s life, Spock. It’s a series of hellos and goodbyes. What’s important is what happens between those two responses. The friendship and adventures that we share with someone make memories. And at the end, that’s all that we really have of someone are the memories.”

Kirk walked up to help. “And if we’re lucky, Spock, those memories are all good ones,” he said. “And it doesn’t always mean that we won gloriously, but that we tried gallantly. And that’s what we’re going to be doing now. We’re going to Star Fleet Academy and we’re going to try. That’s all that Life ever gives us is the opportunity. We have to make the rest of it work. We have to bring the success to our lives, and I believe that this time we will.” Kirk’s eyes burned with determination and purpose, and his spirit was catching. He truly could inspire. He was a born leader.

Kirk turned toward the porthole and he beckoned the others toward the stars around them. “Yes, just look at it out there. Space! Waiting to be conquered. And it’s ours, gentlemen! Ours!”

McCoy's eyes were shining, too. “We’ll go to the academy together, all three of us, and then one day we’ll have our own starship together. Jim will be the captain, I’ll be the CMO, and Spock will be the First Officer.”

“That’s the spirit. If you’re gonna dream, dream big, I say,” Jim Kirk said as he squared his shoulders. It felt odd not having the wings anymore, but it certainly would give him more freedom of movement when he was in the throes of lovemaking. And he was certainly not going to lose any time once he hit Star Fleet Academy again. In the meantime, there was Captain Murdock of this ship….

”We’ll do it, Jim. I know we can!”

”I know we can, too, Bones,” Kirk said with a tolerant smile. “Especially when you keep feeling that determined.”

“My beloved can make all sorts of wishes come true,” Spock bragged.

"Well--" McCoy hedged.

But Spock was persistent. “Is that not true, Horatio?”

McCoy sighed. Oh, hell, he decided, giving in. Why fight it?

Why not ‘Horatio? He was learning to answer to it. He had so many names already. Another one certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“Yeah,” McCoy agreed happily with a gentle smile. "All you gotta do is ask. Your wish is my command."

And the glimpse at Spock's beaming face told McCoy what Spock was indeed wishing for.

And McCoy was going to make damn certain that all of Spock's wishes came true.

Because when he did, all of his wishes would be coming true, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
